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Portrait Painting among the Red
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BI
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WITH
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INTRODUCTORY ESSAY
ow
TnE FAMILY OF THE JAXEWATS AND THE TIMF? IN
M'HICH THEY LIVED.
BY TDB
EEV. F. A. COX, D.D. LL.D.
The family of the Janeways is greatly distinguished in the
annals of nonconformity for the number of its members who
were devoted to the Christian ministry. Nearly all of them
were eminent on account of their piety, zeal, and usefulness;
and though we have reason to regret the scantiness of the ma-
terials which furnish information respecting their lives and
habits, enough has been spared by time to supply a few interest-
ing details, and to suggest important lessons to posterity. Of
such men the fragments should be gathered, that nothing be lost.
The father of the more celebrated individuals, to wliom we
refer, was William Janeway, originally of Lilloy, in Hertford-
shire, but aftei-wards a resident in the village of Aspeden, or,
as it is now called, Harpenden, to which place he removed
about the year 1644. At length he became minister of Kel-
sliall, where, after a severe spiritual conflict, he died in holy
triumph, leaving a widow and eleven children. As we have
not the means of tracing the particulars of liis life and labours,
a valuable page from the record of his dying hours, in the
biography of his son John, may be introduced with advan-
tage, and will be appreciated by the pious reader. Being
under dark apprehensions of mind in his last illness, he
expressed himself in the following manner to his son : —
" Oh, John ! this passing into eternity is a great thing; this
dying is a solemn business, and enough to make any onu's heart
ftche, that hath nut his pardon Healed and his evidences for
fi ESS.VY ON THE FAMILY AND
heaven clp.ir. And truly, son, 1 am under no small fears as to
my own estate for another world. Oh that God would clear
his love ! Oh that I could say cheerfully, I can die ; and upon
good grounds be able to look death in the face, and venture
upon eternity with well-grounded peace and comfort !" His
son, after making a suitable reply, which, however, did not re-
store his peace, retired to solitar'y prayer, earnestly imploring
that his beloved father might be filled with joy in believing,
as a token for good in leaving the world. These Interces-
sions were manifestly heard and answered by a very bright
beam of the divine countenance. Upon returning to his father,
the son inquix-ed how he felt himself. No answer was given ;
but the departing saint, though little subject to such emotions,
wept for a long time, in an extraordinary manner, till at last
he broke forth in the language of impassioned exultation — " Oh.,
son! now it is come, it is come, it is come. I bless God I can
die : the Spirit of God hath witnessed with my spirit that I am
his child. Now I can look upon God as my dear Father, and
Christ as my Redeemer: I can now say. This is my Friend,
and this is my Beloved! My heart is full; it is brim full; I
can hold no more. I know now what that sentence means,
' The peace of God which passeth understanding.' I know now
what that white stone is, whereon a new name is written, which
none know but they who have it. And that fit of weeping
which you saw me in w^as a fit of overpowering love and joy,
so great, that I could not for my heart contain myself; neither
can I express what glorious discoveries God hath made of
himself unto me. And had that joy been greater, I question
whether I could have borne it, and whether it would not have
separated soul and body. Bless the Lord, O my soul, and all
that is within me bless his holy name, that hath pardoned all
my sins, and sealed the pardon. He hath healed my wounds,
and caused the bones which he had broken to rejoice. O help
me to bless the Lord ! He hath put a new song into my mouth.
0 bless the Lord for his infinite goodness and mercy ! Oh, now
1 can die ! it is nothing; I bless God I can die. I desire to be
dissolved, and to be with Christ."
The eldest son was also named William Janoway. He was
admitted to the university of Cambridge about 1650, and in all
probability succeeded his father at Kelshall, as he resided there,
TIMES OF THE JANKWaYS. 7
j.nd was a preacher, in 1G.)7. He does not appear to have pos-
t;essed the rectory ; if he did, it was only for a short time.
John Jan?way, the next brother, was a most remarkable
man. A tolerably fidl account of his life, and the circumstances
of his death, written by his brother James, was some years
ago republished, with a preface by the Rev. Robert Kail. Ho
was born October 27, 1G33, at Lilley, and was successively edu-
cated at Paul's School, Eton College, and King's College, Cam-
bridge, of which he afterwards became a fellow. His reputa-
tion was so great at the period of Ins admission, though only
seventeen years of age, that the electors contended for the
lionour of being his patron. Greatly advanced, however, as
he was in literature, and equally distinguished for the modesty
and courteousness of his deportment, the crowning excellence
of his character, decided rehgion, was not attruned till the fol-
lowing year. " The Lord was pleased," says his fraternal bio-
graplier, " sweetly to unlock his he.art, by the exemplary life
and heavenly and powerful discourse of a young man in the
college, whose heart God had inflamed with love to his soul.
He quickly made an attempt upon this hopeful young man, and
the Spirit of God did set home his counsels with such power,
th.at they proved effectual for his awakening, being accom-
panied with the preaching of those two famous worthies, Dr.
Hill and Dr. Arrowsmith, together with the reading of several
parts of Mr. Baxter's " Saints' Everlasting Rest."
No sooner did he become converted to God than he mani-
fested the deepest interest in the spiritual condition of his
bretlu-en and friends, speaking and writing to them in terms of
extraordinary urgency and power. As a fellow of a college,
he used his utmost cftbi-ts to promote religion in the minds of
all with whom he came in contact, and over whom ho could
exert the influence of a natural or official superiority. One
who was intimately acquainted with him was accustomed to
say that he was like deep waters that were most still — a man
of hidden excellency.
Upon the recommendation of the provost of his college, ho
oni'agod for a time in the service of a family as private tutor,
but ill health compelled him to relinquish his situation, and he
retired to live in the country with his mother and brother.
Many ai^prchensions were entertained that he would not live;
8 ESSAY O.N THE FAMILY A.ND
but not only did he enjoy a perfect peace himself, he was the
consoler and instructor of others around him, and of some at
a distance, by his fervent pen, winged with holy words and
heavenly pleadings. After he had in some measure recovered,
the author of the following treatise states his renewed earnest-
ness in the discharge of every duty, especially prayer and medi-
tation. " His time," says he, " for that was commonly in the
evening, when he usually walked into the field, if the weather
would permit; if not, he retired into the church, or any empty
solitary room, where (observing his constant practice, that, if
possible, I might be acquainted with the reason of his retired-
ness) I once hid myself, that I might take the more exact
notice of the intercourse that I judged was kept up between
him and God. But, oh! what a spectacle did I see! Surely a
man walking with God, conversing intimately with his Maker,
and maintaining a holy familiarity with the great Jehovah.
Methought I saw one talking with God; — methought I saw a
spiritual merchant in a heavenly exchange, driving a rich
trade for the treasures of another world. Oh, what a glorious
sight it was ! Methinks 1 see him still. How sweetly did his
face shine ! Oh, with what a lovely countenance did he walk
up and down ; his lips going, his body oft reaching up, as if he
would have taken his flight into heaven ! His looks, smiles,
and every motion spake him to be upon the very confines of
glory. Oh, had one but known what he was then feeding on !
Sure he had meat to eat which the world knew not of! Did
we but know how welcome God made him when he brought
him into his banqueting-house. That which one might easily
perceive his heart to be most fixed upon, was the infinite love of
God in Christ to the poor lost sons and daughters of Adam.
What else meant his high expressions 1 What else did his own
words to a dear friend signify, but an extraordinary sense of
the freeness, fulness, and duration of that love ? To use his
own words : — * God,' said he, ' holds mine eyes most upon his
goodness, and the promises which are most sure and firm in
Christ. His love to us is greater, surer, fuller, than ours to
ourselves. For when we loved ourselves so as to destroy our-
selves, he loved us so as to save us.' "
At the age of twenty-two, he devoted himself to the
Christian ministry; a work for which he was eminently (juali-
TIMES OF IHE JANEWATS. 9
fied, not only by his intellectual attainments, but more espe-
cially by the depth of his religious experience, and the ardour
of his love for souls. It is remarkable, however, that he lived
to preach only two sermons, the subject of which was — both
being from the same text — ou communion with God. But in
reality, almost every day was with him a Sabbath, and every
conversation a sermon. The intensity of his sympathy with
the spiritual condition of others, and the moral courage which
impelled him onward in the path of duty and devotedness, were
such, that he never hesitated to avow whatever he deemed
right, or to rebuko whatever he considered wrong. He ex-
hibited those extremes of excellence in character which, to
men of the world, appear paradoxical, but which Christianity
is fully capable of displaying in perfection; the 'amb-like grace
of humility, with the lion-like virtue of fearlessness.
That dreadful scourge of humanity, consumption, which had
been long insidiously undennining his constitution, at length
brought him to the grave in June 1657, at the early age of
twenty-tl'.ree. His last sickness brought out in rich and beau-
tiful manifestation those heavenly gi-aces that adorned his
character. His death-bed was a field of triumjih; and as his
ardent soul approached eternity, it seemed to catch the splen-
dours of the invisible world, and reflect their glories around
the dark valley, and upon every spectator of the rapturous
scene. Never, perhaps, was piety more exalted, or victory
over death more complete. He could not rein in the unwont-
ed vehemence of his aflcctions and joy as his race was tei'-
miuaiing, and the chariot wheels seemed, as it were, to bun*
for tlio goal.
" When one came to Aisit him,* and told him that he hoped
it might i>loase God to raise him again, and that he had seen
many a weaker man restored to health, and that lived many
ft good year after: ' And do you think to please me,' said he,
"by such discourse as this? No, friend, you are mucli mis-
taken in ine, if you think that the thoughts of life, and honlth,
and the world, are ])leasing to me. The world hath quite lost
its excellency in my judgment. Oh, how contemptible a thing
is it in all its glory, compared with the glory of that invisible
■World which I now live in the sight of ! And as for lite, Cl.i'ist
• The quotations are from liis brother James's narrutive.
10 ESSAV ON THE FAMILY AND
is mj' life, health, and strength; and I know I shall have
duother kind of life when 1 leave this. I tell you it would in-
comparably more please me, if you should say to me, Yoa
are no man of this world: you cannot possibly hold out long:
before to-morrow you will be in eternity. I tell you I do so
long to be with Chi-ist, that I could be content to be cut in
pieces, and to be put to the most exquisite torments, so I might
but die and be with Christ. Oh, how sweet is Jesus ! Come
Lord Jesus, come quickly. Death, do thy worst! Death hath
lost its terribleness. Death; it is nothing. I say, death is
nothing, through grace, to me. I can as easily die as shut
my eyes, or turn my head and sleep: I long to be with Christ:
1 long ;o die.'
<» * • " I verily believe that it exceeds the highest rhetoric
to set out to the life what this heavenly creature did then de-
liver. I say again, I want words to speak, and so did he, for he
said things unutterable; but yet, so much he spake, as justly
drew the admiration of all that saw him; and 1 heard an old ex-
pei'ieuced Christian minister say it again and again, that he
never saw, nor read, nor heard, the like. Neither could we ever
expect to see the glories of heaven more demonstrated to sense
in this woi"ld. He talked as if he had been in the third heavens."
After introducing several impassioned expressions and sen-
tences, the biographer proceeds: — "About eight-and-forty
hours before his death, his eyes were dim, and his eight much
failed; his jaws shock and trembled, and his feet were cold,
and all the symptoms of death were upon him, and his extreme
parts were already almost dead and senseless; and yet, even
then, his joys were, if possible, greater still. He had so
many fits of joy unspeakable, that he seemed to be in one
continued act of seraphic love and praise. He spake like one
that was just entering into the gates of the new Jerusalem;
the greatest part of him was now in heaven ; not a word dropped
Irom his mouth but it breathed Christ and heaven. 0 what
encouragements did he give to them which did stand by, to
fnllow hard after God, and to follow Christ in a humble, be-
lieving, zealous course of life, and adding all diligence to make
their calling and election sure, and that when they also should
fiud that they should lutve a glorious passage into a blessed
eternity !
TIMES OF THE JANKWAYS. 11
• • • "One rare passage I canuot omit, which was this:
t!.:it when miuisters or Clu'istians came to him, he would beg
of them to spend all the time they had with hiin in praise.
'O help me to praise God; I have now nothing else to do,
ivom tiiis time to eternity, but to praise and love God. I have
v.hat my soul desires upon earth. I cannot tell what to pray
lor, but what I have graciously given in. The wants that are
capable of supplying in this world are supplied. 1 want but
one tiling, and that is, a speedy litt to heaven. I expect no
more here, 1 cannot desire more, I cannot hear more. Oh,
praise, praise, praise that infinite, boundless love, that hath, to
a wonder, looked upon my soul, and done more for me than
tliousands of his dear children. Oil, bless the Lord, 0 my
soul, and all that is within me, bless his Jioly name. Oh, help
me, help me, 0 my friends, to praise and admire him that
liatli done such astonishing wonders for my soul; he hath par-
doned all my sins, he hath filled me with his goodness, he hath
given me grace and glory, and uo good thing hath he with-
held from me.'
"' Come, help me with praises, all that's little; come, help
me, 0 ye glorious and mighty angels, who are so well skilled
in tliis heavenly work of praise ! Praise liim, ail ye creatures
upon the earth; let everything that hath being help me to
praise him ! Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah ! Praise is now
ray work, ami I shall be eugagtd in that sweet employment
for ever. Bring the Bible; turn to David's Psalms, and let
us sing a psalm of praise. Come, let us lift up our voice in
tlie praise of the ilost lligh;l with you as long as my breath
dotli last, and when I h.^ve none, I shall do it better.' "
He took leave of the several members of his family, one by
one, iu affectionate addresses. " Then," adils his brother and
biograplier, " that godly minister came to give him his last
\"isit, and to do the office of an inferior angel — to help to con-
vey liis blessed soul to glory, wlio was now even upon Mount
Pisgah, and had a full sight of that goodly land at a little
distance. When this minister spoke to him, his heart was in
a mighty flame of love and joy, which drew tears of joy from
tliat precious minister, being almost amazed to licar a man
iuht a-dying talk as if he hud been with Jesus, and come ircim
the immediate presence of God. Oh, the smiles that were tlitu
12 ESSAV ON THE FAMILY AND
in his face, and the unspeakable joy that was in his heart !
One might have read grace and glory in such a man's counte-
nance. Oh, the praise, the triumphant praises, that he put up !
And every one must speak praise about him, or else they did
make some jar in his harmony. And indeed most did, as well
as they could, help him in praise ; so that I never heard nor
knew any more praise given to God in one room than in his
chamber.
■' A little before he died, in the prayer, or rather praises,
he was so wrapt up with admiration and joy, that he could
scarce forbear shouting for joy. In the conclusion of the
duty, with abundance of faith and fervency, he said aloud.
Amen, amen !"
After contemplating such a scene of elevation and rapture,
it is not easy at once to descend to the commonplaces of chro-
nological detail, or a scanty memorial of kindred worth; but
the next brother, James, the recorder of these affecting scenes,
was himself a large partaker of the character of him on whose
excellence he expatiates, and greatly assimilated in the joys
and triumphs of his departure. Passing his name for a mo-
ment, we will refer to the next in order, Abraham Janeway.
He was a preacher in London, previous to the period of the
plague; but being of a contemplative turn of mind, which
somewhat unfitted him for very active or public exertions, he
retired with his wife to live with his mother or mother-in-law
at Buntingford, in Huntingdonshire. His Presbyterian prin-
ciples, however, being notorious, he was seized by Justice
Crouch, under a pretence of friendship ; but having made his
escape from the grasp of the persecutor, he s'lnk under the
family complaint of consumption, in September 1665. "Though
he died that very week in which the plague was at the highest,
(thei'e being no fewer than 7165 persons who died of the sick-
ness in that one week,) yet he did not die of that distemper,
for which his brother and other relations were vei-y thankful,
Mr. Vincent says of him, ' He was a righteous person, a right-
eous minister, a dear brother, taken away in tlie flower of his
years. He was a merciful man, and sho''.ed great pity and
compassion to souls; was earnest with them to leave their
sins and close with Christ. He spent himself, and hasteneil
hiso.vn death, to keep others from perishing everlastingly.
TIMES OF THE JANEWAT8. 13
lie was an upright man, a true-heavted Natlianael, and one- of
very promising hopes for very considerable usefulness.' "*
Joseph Janeway was the youngest of the fraternal band, and
a Conformist. In this only, we believe, did he essentially
difTer from the rest. It is a striking fact that all of tlieni
were consumptive, all died under the age of forty, and all were
pious men.
James Janeway, to whom we cursorily referred as next in
chronological order to John, and an account of whom we re-
served, as being more especially connected with the present
publication, was born at Lilley. He became a student in
Christ-church, Oxford, in 10'55, where he took the degrees in
arts in due time. At the close of his pursuits in the univer-
sity, he went to reside in his mother's house at VVindsoi-,
and devoted himself to private tuition. It is probable he had
no benefice, but, as a Nonconformist, was silenced by the act
of 1662. During the plague he was indefatigable in preaching
the gospel, but escaped the contagion. As soon as he sup-
posed the persecuting spirit of the age allowed, a chapel, or
meeting-house as it was then termed, was erected for him in
Jamaica Row, Rotherhithe. It was, however, pulled down
by the soldiers; but the people built another on the same spot
upon a larger scale. He had numerous and respectable
audiences, and was the honoured instrument of effecting a
great reformation in the neighbourhood. t
Tlie high pai'ty, being exceedingly exasperated at his popu-
larity and success, made several attempts on his life. On one
occasion, as he was walking along the wall at Rotherhithe,
he had a narrow escape from a shot. The bullet went through
his hat, but inflicted no personal injury. At another time,
the soldiers broke into his meeting-house, exclaiming, as tliey
))ressod through the crowd, "Down with liini! down with
him !" Tiioy jumped upon a form or bench, with the view of
pulling him out of the pulpit, but providciilially the bench
• Calamy's continuation of liis iiccouiit of Ijcctcd .Ministers. Tlic \U'v.
Nathaniicl Vincent refeiTed to, iiroaclied liis funcnil scnnon, wliicli is jmli-
ll.slifd at tlio end of a tract, entitled, "God's Terrible Voiec in the City."
t Tliiscon(,'ie«iition j.Tii<liiidly declined diiiln;; many years, till scarcely
any hearers were left. This indnced the new jiastor, Dr. Khixnian, to re-
RJirn In 178", when the pcoi)le dispersed. Sec Wilson's Ui.sf. and .\iiti(i. of
Lii^onling ChurJics, vol. 4.
Ji
14 ESSAY ON THE FAMILY AND
gave way. The confusion which ensued afforded an oppor-
tunity of escape; for some of his friends threw a coloured coat
over him, and put a white hat on his liead. The mob, how-
ever, probably misled as to his person by the clever decep-tion,
seized upon one of his people, Mr. Kentish, and carried him
away to the Marshalsea prison, where he was confined for a
considerable time. It is supposed this was Mr. Richard
Kentish, who had been ejected from St. Katherine's, in the
Tower.* A farther attempt was made to secure him when
engaged in preaching at a gardener's house. The troopei's,
having dismounted, rushed into the premises, but he had time
to throw himself upon the ground, where his friends, inter-
cepting the soldiei's, concealed him so effectually from them,
by covering him with cabbage-leave;, that he again escaped.
He died in the prime of life, on March 16th, 1674, in the thirty-
eighth year of his age, and was buried in St. Mary's Church,
Aldermanbury, near his father .t
The Rev. Nathanael Vincent, before mentioned, who ap-
pears to have been intimately acquainted with the Janeway
family, preached a funeral sermon for him, entitled, " The
Saint's Triumph over the last Enemy;" to which he prefixed
an address to the congregation, expressive of the highest esti-
mate of his character. "Oh," he exclaims, "what a friend
did you lose when yom' pastor was snatched from you ! You
were as dear as his own soul ! How did he pray, and weep, and
preach, and labour, and all to this end, that you might be sin-
cere convei'ts, and work out your own salvation. Very few
could match my brother Janeway in zeal, in compassion, in
holy activity, in affection, in sincerity. He sought not yours,
but you, and desired ten thousand times more to gain souls
than ought beside. He endeavoured to debase the world in
your esteem, and it was low in his own; he strived to raise
your affections heavenward, and there was his heart and trea-
sure. Christ he loved, in Christ he believed; Christ he preach-
♦ Palmer's Noncon. Sremorial.
t It is porliaijs scarcely worth -niiUe, even in a note, to cite the charac-
teristic scurrility of Anthony Wood; yet it is insfractive. "He set up a
conventicle," says he, "at Redrift, near London, where, to the time of his
death, he was much resorted to by those of his persuasion, and admired
(IS a forward and preciims young man, especially by those of the femala
Sex." Wood's Ath. Oxon.
Tl.MKS OF TJIE JANEWAVS. 15
el, Clirist he commended. And liinv did lie rojuice when any
tiiat before rejected the Lord Jesus were persuaded to give
tiieir consents to him." The discourse itself is throughout an
excellent specimen of Puritanic simplicity and power. It dis-
plays, moreover, a great deal of ingenuity. At the close of it
he enters into considerable detail respecting his character and
the circumstances of his death, the fidelity of which we can-
iKjt question. These sketches are fraught with an interest
that will more than justify their transcription.
" AV'hat 1 have to say concerning my dear deceased brother,
I shall speak in this order. I shall tell you wherein the Lord
made him to excel in his lifetime, and what his carriage was
at his dejiarture.
" For the fii-st there are those following particulars very
remarkable.
"1. Great was the sweetness of his natural temper and dis-
position. And his excellence of nature was very much
heightened and ennobled by the grace of God. He was far
from morosencss and bitterness of spirit; candour was to be
discerned in his very countenance, and by conversing with
him it was much more apparent; and in his kindness and affa
bility, and proneness to oblige, he had a design of good uj)Oi
souls, for he knew he could not uku'c oblige any than to en-
deavour their eternal welfare.
" 2. He made it his business to be religious. He practised
himself what he preached to others, and was a follower of
Christ, as ho exhorted others to follow him His works were
good as well as his words; and oh, how oft and seriously did
ho lift up his soul to God, desii'ing nothing more than to be a
man and pastor after the heart of the Lord !
" ;>. Jle was a serious mourner for the decays of godliness in
thi.i bauLsliding age. How would lie mention the old Puritan
strictness and circumspection, and bewail the excesses nnd
licentiousness of professors !
" 4. His heart was inflamed icilh lore to Chri.ft. And thougli
his affections were so strong and vehement, yet they wure
fclill aspiring higher. His expressions sometimes showed un-
usual ra[)tur<'s and eestacics of love. He would beg tliat ho
might (Mjual I'aiil oi John, nay, tlie very serajihinis, in loving,
that he niiglit be sick and die of love. Blessed soul, tlmu
16 ESSAY ON THE FAMILY AND
luist now tliy fill ! Thou lovest thy Lord uow, and enjoye; t
this love to the uttermost of thy capacity !
" 5. His howcls of compassion yearned toicards immortal
sotds. He knew the worth of his own, and the souls of others ;
and as he was acquainted with the value of souls, so he was
sensible of their danger. How earnestly would he warn them
to flee from future wrath! How eagerly and sweetly would he
woo them to give their consents to be espoused to Christ !
How admirably would he expostulate with them concerning
their egregious folly in refusing! He pitied the souls of all, —
old and young ; nay, he was deeply concerned for little chil
dren : witness those books which he styles tolxns for them.
" 6 Jle laboured abundantly, spending himself in his Master''s
worlc. If he had wrought less, he might in all probability have
lived longer; but he chose rather, like the candle, to consume,
that he might give light to others. He preached, he visited,
lie catechised; he was instant in season, out of season; and
truly the i.orfl honoured him exceedingly in making him in-
strumental lo convej't the profane, to strengthen the weak in
grace, to ^jieak comfortable and healing words to the dis-
tressed and wounded in their spirits.
" 7 Ht was a man mighty in p/raj/er. There was an ele-
gant (ei<i(|aent?) fiuency in his expression, both when ho
prayed and preached; but, oh, the spiritual and heavenly mat-
ter was most to be admired. Augustine tells us of a certain
person who prayed as if he would expirare orando — breathe
out his very soul and life in prayer, and adds, quas tuorum
preces si non has exandis. What supplications will be preva-
lent if not such as these l This may be applied to my brother
Janeway. He was a mighty wrestler with God, and would
not be put off without a blessing.
" 8. Jle was much for unity and love. Though, accordirg
as it was foretold, love is grown so cold in most, it was warm
in him. He followed peace as well as holiness, and was of a
most yielding spirit, ready, as far as he might, to comply wiih
any, rather than a breach should be or be contiinied.
" 9. Jle abounded in ivorks of charity, having seriously poii-
dered that saying of our Lord, 'It is more blessed to give
I'laii to receive.' As he was liberal in imparting the treasure
of the gospel, so of his own substance which God bad given
TIMES OF Tin; JANEWAVS. 17
li'm. It was his constant course, whatever he received, to £;ive
two shilHngs in the pound, that is, the tenth, unto good uses.
He endeavoured to persuade otliers to bo charitable. Tlie
widows and the fatherless had a great interest in his compas-
sions, and may well bewail his departui-e, by whom now tiiey
can be no more relieved.
" ](). Which crowned all his other excellences, he teas ex-
ceeding hmnUe. He was much in praising, admiring, and
adoring God, and had very low thoughts of himself, and in
honour prelerred oth.ers before himself. He would say he
was the least of ministers, less than the least of all saints.
" In these particulars you have something of his character,
but the half has not been told you; yet enough has been said
to make you sensible how heavy the stroke was which took him
away. The loss of him is not only his relations' loss, but
Redi-iff's (Rothcrhithe's) loss, London's loss, England's loss,
the church's loss; for he was of such a pubhc spirit tliat all
are like to miss hini,
" in the next ^jlace, I am to speak of his carriage at his
death.
" He had a great conflict with Satan somcwhile before his
leaving the world ; and truly 1 do not wonder that the devil
should butt"et him who had with such vigour and success en-
deavoured to overthrow his kingdom. To prei)arc him for
the encounter, the Lord at first did shine upon his soul, and
gave him some assurance that heaven was his inheritance.
But afterwards there intervened a cloud, and Satan's chain
was lengtliened. That liou roared upon him, and endeavour-
ed to disturb his peace. Tiie great thing he blamed himself
for was liis aptness to slubber over private duties, since he
\va.s so much engaged iu public work. The accuser of the
brethren wa-s very fierce in his accusations, and so far pre-
vailed, that Mr. Janoway cried out, / am at ivjinite uncertain
tieis as to my future state. I thour/ht I Juid been sincere, but
Satan tells viel /u^re been a hypocrite; and then added, WluU-
ever you do, do not dally in reli'jion; it is only rjodiiness in
the power of it that can strengthen against tlic fear of death.
Satan would not yet give over, but having begun fr) batter
his faith, gives a fresh assault; then, with a monrnlul voice,
be cried out, Eternity t Eternilyt Ele)~nityl Infuiilel Infinite/
18 ESSAY ON THE FAMILY AND
Infinite 1 Everlast'mf) I Everlasting! Everlasting! A relation
that stood by added, An eternity of glory! To which he re-
plied, Of horror I of horror! unspeahable horror !
" This was, his conflict, and truly it was a sore one. But
after this blackest darkness followed the break of day. Satan
prevailed so far, that he might be the more remarkably foiled,
for the God of peace did 'tread the evil one under his feet *
The Comforter, even the Spirit of Truth, did visit him, an.l
bare witness with his spirit that he was a child of God, ami
helped him to discern and look back upon the uprightness of
his heart with satisfaction.
" Not long before he died, he blessed God for the assurance
of his love, and said. He could now as easily die as shut /<«>
eyes; and added, Mere am I longing to be silent in t?ie dust,
und enjoying Christ in glory. I long to he in the arms of Jesus.
It is not worth while to loeep for me. Then, remembering how
busy the devil had been about him, he was exceeding thank-
ful to God for his goodness in rebuking him.
" Afterwards, he brake forth, sayinj^, though so v.-eak, with a
loud voice, Arr„cn! Hallelujah! Hallelujah! and desired others
to join with him; which they not presently doing, he added,
James Janeway is the only singe): He was quickly seized upon
with another rapture of jnj', and thus expressed it. Millions of
praises to the most high Jcliovah ! Heaven and earth praise him !
Ye m,ountains and hills praise him ! All his hosts praise him I
A II ye saints bless liim, who hath visited us in our low estate,
and redeemed us unto himself! All must be ascribed to free
grace, from the beginning to tlie end.
" Then he begged of God that he would bless his people, and
take away animosities and names of division from among them.
These were the last words which he was heard to speak
distinctly.
" Thus triumphantly he went to glory. Thus an abundant
entrance was administered to him into the everlasting kingdom !
But if his joy and praises were such before he was got quite
thither, when he was actually come within heaven's gate, and
first saw the Loi'd face to face, oh, who can conceive his joy
and wonder!"
To some pei-sons it may seem mysterious that so eminent a
servant of Jesus Chi-ist should have been so agonized, as the
TIMES OF THE JANEWAYS. 19
preN-ious account represents him to have been, with appre-
hensions of an a\\-ful eternity, and with suspicions of his own
suicerity in religion. But all Christians are more or less sub-
jected to the temptations of Satan, and often the more exalted
the character, the more severe is the trial. In general this
may have a tendency to produce beneficial searchings of heart,
and to perfect piety, by inducing watchfulness, increasing
diUgence and prayer. It is part of that parental discipline by
which our heavenly Father trains his children for heaven, and
detaches their too deeply rooted affections from the soil of
eai-th. Rough is the instinmient indeed,, but kind the purpose,
that plucks them up, for their predestined transplantation to
a better place and more congenial skies. And they learn not
to repine, and not to mistake his gracious deahngs, when they
realize the effects in their happy experience. Consistently
with the same principle in the divine proceedings, he suffers
Satan to molest, in some instances, their dying hours — it may
be, to exterminate some latent evil, to subdue yet unex-
tinguished pride, to conquer some -'^If-seeking passion, or to
give an intensity of feeling to the hour of final triumph, which
shall clear the mind of every past apprehension, every recent
consideration, and tend to the confii-mation of religion in sur
viving friends and a distant posterity.
But we have not uufrequently to encounter an objection of
a different kuid, when the world, or even professing Christians
insinuate tlie charge of enthusiasm against the sublime ardour
of an impassioned religion. On this subject we may quote
the observations of a distinguished writer, in his brief preface
to the modem edition of John Janeway's life, as equally appli
cable to the closing scene of James, as just narrated. " I am
aware that some will object to the stram of devout ecstacy
which characterizes the sentiments and language of Mr. Jane-
way in his dying moments; but I am persuaded they will meet
with nothing, however ecstatic and elevated, but what corre-
sponds to the dictates of Scripture and the aualogyof faith.
He who recollects that the Scriptures speak of a peace which
passeth all understanding, and of a joy unspeakable and full
of (jlor-ij, will not be offended at the lively expressions of those
contained in this narrative; ho will bo more disposed to lament
the low state of his own religious feeling, than to suspect the
20 ESSAY ON THE FAMILY AND
propriety of sentiments the most rational and scriptural, merely
because they rise to a pitch that he has never reached. The
sacred oracles afford no countenance to the supposition that
devotional feelings are to be condemned as visionary and en
thusiastic, merely on account of their intenseness and elevation:
provided they be of a riglit kind, and spring from legitimate
sources, they never teach us to expect they can be carried too
far. David danced before the Lord with all his might, and
wljen he was reproaclied for degrading himself in the eyes of
the people, by indulging these transports, he replied, " If this
be to be vile, I will yet maJce myself more vile." That the ob-
jects which interest the heart in religion are infinitely more
durable and important than all others, will not be disputed ;
and why should it be deemed iri'ational to be affected by them
in a degree somewhat suitable to their value, especially in the
near prospect of their full and perfect possession? Why should
it be deemed strange or irrational for a dying saint, who haa
spent his life in the pui-suit of immortal good, to feel an un-
speakable ecstacy at fir/'!ng he has just touched the goal,
finished his course, and in a few moments is to be crowned
with life everlasting? While he dwells on the inconceiveablj
glorious prospect before him, and feels himself lost in wondei
and gratitude, and almost oppressed viith a sense of his un
utterable obligations to the love of his Creator and Redeemer
nothing can be more natural and proper than his sentiment?
and conduct. AVhile the Scriptures retain their rank as the
only rule of faith and practice; while there are those who feel
the power of true religion, such death-bed scenes as Mr. Jane-
way's will be contemplated with veneration and delight. It
affords no inconsiderable confirmation of the truth of Chris-
tianity, that the most celebrated sages of Pagan antiquity,
whose last moments have been exhibited with inimitable pro-
priety and beauty, present nothing similar nor equal, nothing
of that singular combination of humility and devotion, that
self -renouncing greatness, in which the creature appears an-
nihilated, and God all in all
" Let me be permitted, however, to observe, that ihe ex-
perience of Mr. Janeway in his last moments, while it de-
velopes the native tendency of Christianity, is not to be con-
sidered as a standard to ordinary Christians. He affords a
TIMES OF THE JANEWAYS. 21
fjtvat cxaini)le of what is aftainaLle in religion, and not of
what is indisj)ensably necessary to salvation. Thousands die
in the Lord, who are not indulged with the privilege of dying
in triumph. Ilis extraordinary diligence in the whole of his
Christian cai-eer, his tenderness of conscience, his constant
vigilance, his vehement hunger and thirst after righteousness,
met with a signal reward, intended, probably, not more for
his own personal advantage, than as a persuasion to others to
walk in his steps. As he was incessantly solicitous to improve
ilis graces, jmrify his principles, and perfect holiness Lu the
fear of the Lord, no \\onder he was favoured with an abun-
dant entrance into the joy of his Lord. He which soiveth
sparingly shall reap also sparingly; and he which sowcth
bountifully shall reap also lountifully."*
Of the vai'ious publications issued by Mr. Janeway,t the
most celebrated ai'e the " Token for Children," and " Heaven
upon Earth." The former obtained a wide circulation during
the ai>thor's lifetime, and has ever since continued to interest
and benefit our juvenile population. With the latter we ha^e
now more immediate concern, as being republished in the
present volume. It is not free from the defects which charac-
terize the wTitings of that age; but though somewhat quaint,
inmiethodical, and prolix, it is replete with sterling sense and
powerful appeal. Few pious persons can read it without
benefit; and could the irreligious be persuaded to peruse its
pages, we should anticipate a happy result. He who could
have written thus must have been an excelleut Christian and
a sound divine.
It appears from the epistle to the readei', that the events
which most deeply impressed Mr. Janeway's mind, and were
the immediate occasion of his composing this treatise, were the
• Robert Hall.
t 1. Heaven upon Earth. 2. Token for CliUdren; in two parts. 3. Deatli
Unstiui«; u Kiuierul Sermon for Thomas Mouslcy, an Apotliceary. 4. In-
visihle lieahtics, demonstrated in the lioly Life and Death of Mr. Jolin Jane-
way, li;":!. 5. Tlie Saints' EncouraRement to Dillgenec in Christ's Service,
KiTS. C. Let'aey to his Friends ; containing '27 famous Instances of God's
]irovldence in and aliout sea dan^'ers and deliverances, 1674. 7. Saints'
Memorials, 1(J71. 8. Tlie Duties of Musters and Servants; u Sermon in
su])plement to .Morning Exercises, 1G74. 9. Man's last End ; a I'uneral
Sermon on I's. Ixxxiv. 8, lG7i;. 10. The Murderer punished and pardoned ;
\,ith tile Life and Death uf T. Savai;e.
22 ESSAY ON THE FAMILY AND
Plague and the Great Fire of London. The former took place
in 1665; the latter in the autumn of 1666. These domestic
incidents were accompanied by others of a calamitous nature,
affecting the social condition of the people, and the political
welfare of the empire. Seldom, mdeed, have the clouds
gathered more thickly over the land, or burst in more alarm-
ing tempests. Political misrule, ecclesiastical oppression, and
court profligacy, darkened the whole scene; while Providence
spoke in accents of thunder to a nation that seemed to be
doomed to destruction.
The times of Charles the Second were replete with mani-
fold evidences of the great mistake of the Restoration, Avhile
the Church of God, though at first filled with dismay, soon
found occasion to display the sublimity of her character, in
consequence of the Act of Uniformity in 1C62. Never was
there a severer attack upon conscience, and never a nobler
victory achieved, without a battle or a sword. Persecution
issued her edict, and Christianity went forth armed with glory
and honour, in the persons of her two thousand self-denying
heroes, who, like their renowned predecessors, " rejoiced that
they were counted worthy to suffer shame for the name of
Jesus."
Some time afterwards, the Conventicle Act was passed, by
which the Nonconformists were prohibited from attending any
places of worship excepting those of the established religion,
without incurring, by a graduated scale of punishment, various
and monstrous penalties. The execution of this edict having been
committed to the King's forces, as well as the civil authorities,
the prisons soon became crowded with the victims of fanaticid
intolerance and military despotism. In Scotland, its atrocious
oppressiveness chiefly affected the Presbyterians. " Invigora-
ted," says an able historian, " by the Scotch Conventicle Act,
Archbishop Sharp ' drove very violently,' establishing what
proved to be a high commission court, — one of the worst
tyrannies cast down by the civil war, — and persecuting his
former brethren of the kirk without pity, and without calcula-
tion of the personal danger he was thereby incui'ring. The
aspiring churchman, not satisfied with his immense and uncon-
stitutional ecclesiastical powers, attempted to get himself made
the head of the law in Scotland; and though he failed in this,
TIMES OF THE JANEWATS 2$
his creature, the Lord Rothes, was made Chancellor; and
Rothes browbeat the magistrates and lawyers, and twisted the
law as Sharp thought fit. The prisons in Scotland were soon
crammed hke those of England, the prisonci-s meeting witli
still worse usage. Sometimes they were fined, and the younger
sort whipped about the streets. Troops were quartered through-
out the country to force the people to respect the bishops, tiio
liturgy, and the new-imposed Episcopalian preachers. These
troops were commanded by Sir James Turner, ' who was na-
turally fierce, but he was mad when he was drunk, and that
was very often.' He scoured the country, and received such
lists as the new ministers brought him of those who would not
go to church, and use the Book of Common Prayer; and then,
without any proof or legal conviction, he fined them according
to tlieir substance or his own caprice, and sent soldiers to live
upon them till the fines were paid."*
At this crisis a Dutch war commenced, in consequence of
the seizure of some of their settlements on the coast of Africa.
The commercial jealousy of the merchants of England, the
mercenary spirit of the king, and the pride of the people, con-
spired to stimulate this hostility ; supplies were voted, and
ficets prepared. But this direful moment of a nation's fury
was signalised by a nation's humiliation; for what has been
emphatically termed the Plague of London broke out, by which
calamity thousands and tens of thousands perished. Thus
were the circumstances analngous to those of Greece, when,
about four hundred and thirty years before the Christian era,
a plague raged at Athens, the most dreadful perhaps recorded
in history, while the Peloponnesians, under the command of
Archidamus, laid waste the surrounding tcn-itory.
It appears from authentic documents, that the plague was
imported from Holland, the prohibition of parliament to intro-
duce merchandise from that then infected country havinf been
in some instances disregarded. The evil was small in its com-
mencement, but rapid in its diffusion. At the close of 1664,
two or three persons died suddetdy in Westminster, and upon
examination, it proved to have been occasioned by this fearful
malady. Many of their neighbours, seized with alami, in-
bUmtly removed into the city; but ins'ead of escaping from
* I'ict. IliBt. of England, voL iii. p. 091.
24 ESSAY ON THIi FAMILY AND
tlie calamit}', carried it with them, and multiplied its hnrrorss
by spreading it on every hand. Though somewhat cliecked
for a season by measures taken to prevent intercommunication
as far as possible, and by the severities of a hard winter, it
re-appeared in the middle of February 1665, when it was a
second time checked; but in the ensuing April, it broke out
with renew'ed power and malignity. A very large proportion
of the houses in the city were sluit up, having this deprecating
inscription, in conspicuous letters, on their walls, " The Lord
have mercy upon us !" But the plague-monster heeded not
these precautions, or these ominous tablets; on the contrary, he
continued to slay his thousands, and achieved his direful con-
quests by the pent-up air generating the contagion, or impart-
ing to it an unwonted intensity of destructive strength. While
many perished, others, forcing their way out in utter despair,
spread abroad the virus, and scattered mischief, misery, and
death wherever they flew. At the height of the disorder, the
carts moved about, creaking and rumbling through every part
of the metropolis, with each its melancholy tinkling death-bell,
while the grave-diggers uttered, in sepulchral tone, — " Bring
out your dead !" Where the feet of many generations had
multitudinously and joyouslj' pressed the ground, for business,
for mirth, or the thousand purposes of life, the grass grew in
the untrodden street; the clergy forsook their pulpits, and
desolation and ghastly horror sat enthroned amidst the mean-
ings of living agony, and the awful silence of the piled-up
monumental dead. All men became naturally anxious to
escape from this region of woe; merchants and owners of
ships sought a refuge on board their respective vessels in the
river, at Greenwich, Woolwich, and other places, while others
rushed to distant parts of the country, to find a secure asylum.
It is observable that while the pulpits of the regular clergy
were vacated, and their usual sphere of labours entirely aban
doned, the pei-secuted Nonconformists re-entered the very .
churches from which they had been driven, and, inspired with
the love of souls, hesitated not to face the formidable danger
and to administer spiritual instruction to the sick and dying.
" Knowing the terrors of the Lord," they sought even then
"to persuade men;" and with a moral heroism that brightly
displayed the chai'acter of true Christianity, they stood in the
TIMES OF THE JANEW.VYS. Ij
very territories of the pale mouarch with his spectral terrcr.>,
to exhibit the Ci'oss and proclaim the great salvation.
At this very moment, incredible as it may seem, the Kino-
of Eufrland, havinir with his minions removed to Oxford from
dread of the plague, not only continued his dissolute course of
life, but devised, with the aid of his court, clergy, and par-
liament, another scheme of vengeance against the very men
who had been expelled from their benefices, and were now
acting as the ministering angels of heaven's beneficence to
the perishing subjects of the realm, by enacting the Five Mile
Act, the object of which was to mal;c it penal for any Non-
confoi-mist minister to teach in a school, or come within five
miles (except as a traveller) of any city, borough^ or corporate
town, or any place whatever in which he had preached or
taught since the passing of the Act of Uniformity, unless he
had previously taken the oath of non-residence. Not satisfied
with this, a bill was bi-ought into the House of Commons, for
imposing the oath of non-resistance upon the whole nation,
which tlie Oxford parliament would have passed, but for the
I'cmarkable circumstance of Peregrine Bcrtrie being that
moi-ning only introduced into the House by his brother, made
Earl of Lindsay, and Sir Thomas Osborne, then created Lord
Ti'easurer Dauby, who gave their votes against it: thus, as it
has been said, *' tliree voices had the merit of saving their
country from the greatest ignominy that could have befallen
it — that of riveting as well as forging its own chains." la
reference to this melancholy state of affairs, Baxter exclaims,
" So little did the sense of God's terrible judgments, or of the
necessities of many hundred thousand ignorant souls, or the
groans of tiie poor people for the teaching which they had
lost, or the fear of the great and final reckoning, afl'ect the
hearts of tlic prelatists, or stop them in tlieir way."
The Dutch war was not only prolonged, at tliis crisis, but
attended by a new calamity to England, the junction of the
Erench with their enemies. Fleets were prepared on either
side, ami met in iiostile array. The Duke of Albemarle and
Prince Itupert were the British commanders, and the cele-
brated Do lliiyter and Van Troiiip headed tiie antagonist force.
A fiea-light ensued of four days; one of the most memor;i!)Ic
engagements in Engli.sh history. Two circumstances sulU-
25 ESSAY ON THE FAMILY AND
cientiy elucidate the madness of the individuals in those na-
tional struggles. When, on the third morning, the English
fleet was retreating towards the Dutch coast, Albemarle de-
clared to the Earl of Ossory, one of the undaunted devotees of
human glory, then on board with the admiral, that he was
resolved rather to blow up the ship and perish gloriously,
as he termed it, than yield to the enemy. Lord Ossory fully
concurred in this desperate purpose! Subsequently, when De
Ruyter was worsted, and the Dutch fleet scattered, he ex-
claimed, with burning Indignation, as he yielded, " My God!
what a wretch am I! Among so many thousand bullets, is
there not one to put an end to my miserable life?" Here are
sayings and doings considered worthy of celebration by tlie
political historians of mankind, and which will ever be lauded
by those who coalesce with the spirit of the world, by con-
founding glory with pride, and greatness with ambition; but
bring into comparison the character and conduct of those wIkj,
%vith a courage as undaunted, but a principle more godlike,
rushed from safety to peril, on the noble enterprize of saving
the plague-smitten population of the metropolis, though de-
nounced and insulted by a nation's monarcli and a nation's
parliament for their heretical benevolence; and the zeal of
the piety will appear as superior to the heroism of war, as
that which is divine and immortal surpasses that which is
earthly and vanishing away.
While this miserable contest continued with various suc-
cess, another awful visitation of Providence took place, to which
Janeway solemnly refers m his episde to the reader : — " The
voice of the Lord was not heard, the language of tlie plague
was not understood; wherefore the dreadful Jehovah spake
louder and louder, as he did once from Mount Sinai, in fire,
flame, and smoke; — he rode m a chariot of flaming fire, whilst
the bolls did ring tlieir own knells as tliey were tumbling; and
it is to be feared, were more melted at the anger of the mighty
God, than thousands of hard-hearted men and women were.
The leads of the churches wei'e dissolved into showers more
easily far than stupid professors that were wont to sit under
them. Tliat was a black cloud indeed which no wind could
blow over till it fell in such scalding drops."
The fire of Loudon broke out in the niglit, between the
TIMES OF THE JANEWAYS. 27
second and third of September, at a baker's shop, near Lon-
don Bridge. The summer liad been intensely hot, and the
citv being chiefly constructed of timber, the fire, aided by a
violent wind, spread with irresistible rapidity, till four hundred
streets, comprising thirteen thousand houses, became one vast
heap of niin. It was only at last ai-rested by the blowing-up
of houses. " The fire and the wnd," says Clarendon, " con-
tinued in the same excess all Monday, Tuesday, and Wednes-
day, till afternoon, and flung and scattered brands burning
into all quarters; the nights more terrible than the days, and
the light the same, — the light of the fire supplying that of the
sun." He observes, moreover, " let the cause be what it
would, the efiect was very tewible; for above two part? of
three of that great city were burned to ashes, and those the
most rich and wealthy parts of the city, where the greatest
warehouses and the best shops stood. The Royal Exchange,
with all the streets about it, Lombard Street, Cheapside,
Paternoster Row, St. Paul's Church, and almost all the other
churches in the city, with the Old Bailey, Ludgate, all Paul's
Churchyard, even to the Thames, and the greatest part of
Fleet Street, all which were places the best inhabited, were
all burned, without one house remaining. The value or esti-
mate of what that devouring fire consumed, over and above
the houses, could never be computed in any degree." It is
not easy to conceive the sublime aspect of sucli a confla-
gration, although we may imagine a circumference of several
miles blazing with flame and smothered with smoke, so dense
and voluminous, as to render every object frightful, with a
lurid glare, and every moving inhabitant a spectre. The orb
of day appeared like a fiery Mars, and the stars of night were
darkened. One of the great city buildings, Guildhall, is re-
presented as having exhibited a curious and magnificent spec-
tacle. The oak of which it was built was too solid to be
enflamed, but burnt like charcoal; so that for several hours
the whole edifice seemed like an enchanted palace of gold or
burnished brass.
As the mind is naturally more impressed with particular
Btatementa than general descriptions, it may be desirable ti>
furnish the reader with some particulars of the damage that
1-n.sued.
'Jo ESSAY ON THK FAMILV AND
'i birteeu thousand two Imiuli'ed houses, at twelve yesrs'
purchase, supposing the I'cnt of each
L.25 sterling,
Eighty-seven parish churches, at L.80G0,
Six consecrated chapels, at L.'2000,
The Royal Exchange,
The Custom House,
Fifty-two Halls of Companies at L.1500
each, ....
Three City Gates, at L.3000 each.
Jail of Newgate,
Four stone Bridges,
Sessions House,
Guildhall, with the Courts and Offices
belonging to it, .
Blackwall Hall,
Bridewell,
Poultry Compter,
Wood Street Compter, .
St. Paul's Church,
Wares, household stuff", money, and
moveable goods lost or spoiled.
Hire of porters, carts, waggons, barges,
boats, &c., for removing goods,
Printed books and paper in shops and
warehouses.
Wine, tobacco, sugar, &c., of which
the town was at that time very full,
L.l 0,689,000 0 0«
If ever a nation were addressed by the Invisible God, it
was surely at that period; and if ever a nation disregarded
the appeal, it was then, when plague, and war, and confla-
gration failed to turn them from their iniquities. Notwith-
standing the enkindled zeal and the pious activity of a few of
the consecrated children of God, irreligion continued its un-
impeded progress among the people, and that, too, under the
very fonas of sanctity; and profligacy maintained its triumpli-
♦ Ency. Brit. Art. London.
L3,960,000
0
0
696,000
0
0
12,000
0
0
50,000
0
0
10,000
0
0
73,000
0
0
9,000
0
0
15,000
0
0
6,000
0
0
7,000
0
0
40,000
0
0
S,000
0
0
5,000
0
0
5,000
0
0
3,000
0
0
2,000,000
0
0
2,000,000
0
0
200,000
0
0
150,000
0
0
1,500,000
0
0
TnnS OF THE JANEWAYS. 29
Riit sway among the great. The court renewed, if, iiideeS,
it had ever suspeud&d, its revels; the king and parliament
pm'sued their domestic warfare, the multitude hurried agaia
to the indulgence of their religious prejudices, their political
subserviency, and their personal vices. He who had spoken
from heaven was not heard; and in refusing to speak again,
bis silence seemed to indicate they were to be abandoned to
the most awful of destinies, to be providentially " let alone."
All were frightened by the tempest; but when it had passed,
few appeared to be benefited. It is no wonder, therefore, that
these should have been characterized by our author, in con-
nection with his own sufferings, as " the worst of times."
In reviewing the history of the two disastrous events wliieh
have been noticed — the plague and the fire — we are aware that
many might be disposed to contend the point of their being
judicial or providential visitations, and to maintain that the
manner of their origin in either case proves them to have been
accidental. And this is their favourite method of interpreting
occurrences which they find recorded in past ages, as well as
others with which their own experience has rendered thorn
conversant. For their sakes, therefore, and equally for the
confirmation of believers, it may be well to devote a few words
to the subject.
An accurate use of terms is essential to correct ideas. On
this account we would distinguish between accidental and for-
tuitous circumstances. The former term may not be, as Chris-
tians often deem it, objectionable, when we attacli to the use
of it that restricted view of its meaning which it may fairly
claim. Let it be understood to designate an occurrence,
simply sudden, unexpected, and unforeseen, or unavoidable by
calculation. This, it will be seen, has relation strictly to hu-
man agency or human anticipation. In this sense, it does not
in the least interfere with any notion we may entertain of a
divine supcrintcndcneo and a[>pointnu'nt. What may be ac-
cidental to our ignorance, is perfectly in the order of a fixed
providential law to His wisdom. Biit when fate or chance is
involved in the use of any expression or word, another and
objectionable sentiment is introduced. This enters into the
c inception of an event as fortuitous. It takes it out of the
eystem of order, an 1 puts it into the chaos of casualties. It
0
\
30 ESSAY ON THE FAMILY AND
denies the regularity of an infinitely extended and perfect dis-
position of the universe. If, therefore, by saying that an oc-
currence was accidental, it be simply meant — as we tlunk the
term may properly mean — that it was beyond the power of
man to prevent, or out of the reach of his sagacity to foresee,
no reflection is cast upon that great Being who " orders all
things according to the counsel of his own will;" but if, by
affirming it to have been fortuitous, it is intended to detach it
from the immediate hand and direction of God, from his pre-
meditative plan, the notion is plainly false and atheistical.
Under this impression, we should say that the communication
of the plague by a bale of goods or other trifling importation,
or the setting fire to London by the ignition of a little com-
bustible matter in a baker's shop, by the flame of a candle or
the spark from an oven, was in either instance accidental, but
not fortuitous; thei'e was in it much of the uncalculating care-
lessness of man, but nothing, as it regards the Supreme Dis-
poser, of uncertainty, unexj>ectedness, and chance.
Our weak minds are apt to view things which are essen-
tially, that is, providentially the same, in a diff'erent manner,
according to their comparative magnitude. It seems to us as
if that which was small and insignificant in itself were less
the object of attention to the universal Ruler, than that which
is apparently and imposingly great. The fall of a sparrow
and the rise of an empire are two events which, as to their
importance, seem to be in striking contrast; and while many
a mind is ready to admit the theory of a providence in rela-
tion to the latter, on account of its vastness, its complicated
relations, and its mighty influence upon the affairs of man-
kind, the sense of littleness in the former instance induces
the presumption that it must of necessity be overlooked as
nothing in the government of Omniscience. But this is neither
a scriptural nor a i-ational conclusion.
Admitting that the world is not abandoned by its Creator,
it is as conceivable that he should exercise the most minute
and detailed inspection as the most general. We are indeed
soon perplexed by multiplicity, and confused by num-ber; the
power of combination is in us extremely imperfect, and hence
we acquire knowledge by very slow degrees; it is only step
by step that we ascend, and owing to the obstacles that occur,
TIMES OF THE JANEWAIS. 31
the misconceptions to which we are ever liable, the preju-
dices we have to surmount, the intricacies of error we have
to disentangle, and the brevity of human life, it is not possible
even for the greatest genius to attain to any considerable ele-
vation, before the shadows of the last evening overtake him.
But since everything is fully known, and known at once, by
the Divine mind, it cannot be more difficult, consequently is
not less probable, that all the separate points in universal
nature should be carefully observed, all the movements and
changes that spring from material combinations, and all the
proceedings of intelligent beings should be regulated, than
that any one point is seen, any one movement ordered, any
one proceeding directed. It is no greater exertion of mind to
Omniscience to superintend each subdivision, of existence
than to direct the whole ; nor can any confusion arise from
such an observance to perjjlex an Infinite Intelligence.
Unquestionably too, an equal necessity is apparent in either
case. General harmony must result from particular order :
the machine cannot produce the expected result, unless the
intermediate movements are correct ; the chorus will not be
complete if the separate parts be ill adjusted, or any one be
entirely omitted. Supposing a general pi-ovidence to super-
intend the universe at large in such a manner as to effect the
happiest final issue, such a termination can only be secured
by "making all things work together" for the ultimate
"good." Disarrangement in the least thing must be pre-
vented, or tlie mighty thread of events would soon become
entangled, and disastrous consequences ensue ; but such mis-
cliief can only be avoided by the unsleeping vigilance of an
all-seeing eye, watching the minutest circumstance, and the
pei-petual control of an omnipotent arm, regulating the most
insij^nificant event. Wd are therefore compelled to the con-
clusion that eitlier God is in all things, or tlicre is no God.
It may be said that this or that evil results immediately
from the folly, incautlon, or passion of an individual, as we
see in tracing the origin of the i)lague and conflagration in
1666. It may be said — and analogous qucstif)nings are fre-
•luontly indulged — if some careless man in Holland, evading
law and seeking to gratify his mercenary s[)irit, had not con-
trived to transmit infected gooJs to London, the plague would
32 ESSAY ON THE FAMILY AND
not have existed ; if something iiiflammatoi-y had not canght
in the baker's premises, perhaps by a puff of air upon a spark
or an incipient flame, tlie great fire would not have happened:
be it so ; admit tliese suppositions, and the consequences they
imply ; we maintain there is nothing in them fairly to impugn
the doctrine of providential superintendence, which is the
doctrine of divine foresight and moral government.
The Supreme Intelligence must necessarily know the future
actions of men, the train of causes- which lead to them, and
the manner- in which their passions, with their seemingly con- •
tingent effects, will, under all imaginable circumstances, ope-
rate. That which to the view of a finite mind'is futm-e, is to
the infinite one perfectly and fully present ; since past, pre-
sent, and future, are terms expressive simply of our ignorance
or imperfection of knowledge : and this supposition does by no
means interfere with the freedom of human action ; for tlie
nature of an action as morally good or bad, or only neutr 1,
can suffer no alteration through being foreknown.
There is besides no difficulty in the supposition, that men
may betplaced in the world successively in such situations in
point of time, connexions, and other circumstances, that their
whole conduct may coincide with the minutest arrangements
of that foresight which is attributable to the Deity, and that
order which 'he has established. It is i-easonable to imagine
this without supposing any infringement of human liberty,
oecause the very carelessness of human inconsideration, and
the very excesses of the passions may be made to subserve
the purposes of God, as well as the diversified capacities, rank,
possessions, and influence of individuals ;. so that there may
be good instead of evil, even in what we deem simply evil, by
the counter-workings of unthought-of agencies, still specially
designed, — as the very, plague of London itself became the
means of calling into operation a ministerial instrumentality,
not otherwise likely, or perhaps possible, to have been em-
ployed, which, in the conversion of many souls, produced
results the most glorious, and having their far-reaching
influences beyond all calculation into eternity. Thus, as the
contrary movements of a machine, though confusing to the
eye of an unskilled spectator, are prepared for by the con-
triver to promote the ultimate effect so each material change ;
TIMES OF THE JANEWAYS. 33
or, if you will, accidental occurrence, every action, with all its
tendencies and consequences, every passion, with all its irre-
gularities, constitute together the several parts of a complex
but harmonious system. It may be assumed, therefore, as
essential to the perfection of the great economy of the universe,
that, while every person, in every age, is fulfilling, or aiming to
fulfil, his own wishes, the mind that rules over all is limiting
to its proper sphere the exertions of the individual by invisi-
ble agencies, without interfering with his volitions ; and every
particular aim and effort is so ordered, as to render its occur-
rence an indispensable link in the chain of events.
The suggestions of reason are substantiated by the declara-
tions of Scripture. The whole volume is, in fact, a history o:'
providence, unfolding its evidences and charactei-istics in the
phenomena of nature and the afl'airs of the church — in the
walking pestilence, the exterminating war, the prevailing
prayer, the progression of things in revolving ages. The
doctrine of providence — a providence at once powerful, bound-
less, and gracious — has been written in the arrested sun of
Gibeon and the awe-stricken moon of the valley of Ajalon, in
the bright stars that fought against Sisera, in the commis-
sioned stone that flew from the sling of David to the head
of the giant of Pliilistia, in the edicts that dismissed Vashti
and called Esther to the court of Ahasuerus, in multiplied
and ever-multiplying events, great and small, and espe-
cially and above all, in the birth, hfe, death, and triumphs of
Him in whom was revealed the great mystery of ages and the
mercy of Heaven. This providence is represented in the
dream of Jacob, in the wheels of Ezekiel, in the language
alike of the Old Testament and the New ; and, with its atten-
dant constellations of grace and promise, is the pole-star of
the believer across the deeps of life, till he obtain "an abundant
entrance into the everlasting kingdom of our Lord and
Saviour Jesus Christ."
HEAVEX UPON EARTH
OR,
JESUS THE BEST FRIEND OF MAN.
HEAVEN UPON EARTH;
OB,
JESUS THE BEST FKIEND OF MAN.
"Acquaint now tliyself with liim, and T3e at peace; thereby good shall come
unto thee."— Job xxii. 21.
They wlio have improved their experience of things by
wisdom, and gathered up the value of man's life, by compai--
ing his desire with his enjoyments, his troubles and sorrows
with his content and joy, have concluded the Avorth of the
life of man to be beiownothing; they liave drawn a black line
upon the whole, and shut up all in darkness. Thus Jacob
of old, in the account which he gives of his life to Pharaoh,
Gen. xlvii. 9; Job v. 7; and also Solomon, who had an ex-
traordinary measure of wisdom by divine di.'^pensation, who
had a large spirit like the sand of the sea-shore, he gave him-
self groat liberty in trying what that .good under the sun
for the sons of men was, Eccl. ii. 1. When he had taken
a taste of all the world's contents, yet he finds a bitterness
mixed in all delights, which abideth no longer than the
pleasure, vcr. 1], 17. And whosoever shall enter into himself,
and feel the workings of his own mind, shall be able to read
over the transcript of the same in his own conscience. Who
is he among the sons of men, tliat in his natural life liath
attained to a state wherein he was alilc to say. Hero I will
stay, it is now well with me, I desire no addition to my pre-
sent condition? If there be any sudi, I dare inulortakc to
jirovc liim unacquainted with himself. Where now shall I
fasten the blame of tiiis universal evil? Shall we fall out
with our life, as a tiling not worth the having ? Shall wo
38 HEAVEN UPON earth; OR,
shrink into our former nothing, and cast up our being and
iife into the hands of God, as that out of which we gathered
notliing but bitterness and disquiet ? Far be tliis from us ;
this were to justify that evil and wicked servant, who said
of God, that "he knew he was a hard Master, reaping where
he had not so■^^Tl, and gathering Avhere he had not strawed."
This would be to accuse God of having made us to an un-
avoidable necessity of misery. How then comes it to pass,
that we are all held fast in this common calamity ? It is
from thyself, 0 man, it is from thyself; this evil is because
of our falling from God. It is a righteous thing with God,
that when man departed from him, he should reap the fruit
of his own doings ; and indeed it is impossible for a creature
of our composure and constitution, but to feel itself dissatis-
fied with allworldlymaterial employments, and tofind trouble
and disquiet in itself, while it is deprived of its true good.
If we would have a true account of our disquiet and dissatia-
fe,ction,this is it. God made man, of all the works of his hands,
to be the nearest to himself, and hath fitted his principles
for a higher life than that which hath the things of this
world for its object; but man hath made liimself like the
beasts that perish. We have given our souls into captivity
to our bodies, or rather, we are fallen from our union with
God, and are gathered up into ourselves, and become deprived
of a sufficiency in separation from God; then it must needs
be, that we, being gone down into a lower state than that
which we were made to, should find nothing but dissatisfac-
tion and emptiness : here we are by nature, and liitherto we
have brought ourselves by forsaking God.
^Now the great inquiry will be, what remedy there is for
this our woful condition ; is there any Avay whereby we
may be delivered from this misery 1 If there be, what way
is it ? These words wliich I have chosen to speak to, do
contain the answer to tliis inquiry.
"Acquaint now thyself with him, and be at peace; thereby
good shall come unto thee." This is the counsel of one of
Job's three friends to him in the time of his gi-eat affliction.
You have heard of the affliction of Job, and how his three
friends came to relieve liim with their counsel; but the
JESUS THE BEST FRIEND OP MAN. 39
devil, who had a commission from God to try his utmost
with Job, yet sparing his life, made use of his friends, who
are to he a comfort in the hour of adversity, to be a great
means of his disquiet, so that he cries out of them, " Mise-
rable comforters are ye all," ch. xvi. 2. And the great way
of their troubling him was, by misapplying, by making false
application of true principles. In their discourses there are
many excellent truths ; yet, by their hard construing, and
ungrounded condemning of him, they by God are reproved,
as not having spoken the thing that was right, ch. xlii. 7 ; yet
in many tilings their counsel was suitable and seasonable ;
of which sort the words in the text may be accounted. In
tills chapter Eliphaz had been inquiring into the cause of
Job's gi-eat affliction ; and holding this for an undeniable
principle, that the righteous God, being the gi-eat disposer of
affliction, did bring this evil upon him because of his sin, he
measured the greatness of his sins by the gi'eatness of afflic-
tions; he made account, because God's hand was gone forth
in an extraordinary manner against Job, therefore there was
some extraordinary guilt upon him: "And thou sayest,
How doth God judge through the dark clouds?" ver. 5, 1.3.
Thus we have this apprehension of Job, as one under gi-eat
affliction because of -his great sins; and the text is Eliphaz's
counsel to Job under this character; and so is suitable
advice to those that are under sickness or great afflictions,
and that are under the guilt of great sin.
"Acquaint thyself with him, and be at peace ; thereby good
shall come unto thee." The words are a doctrine for the soul
under a sense of its lost condition, with a promise very
comfortable upon the embracing thereof
The doctrine is, "Acquaint thyself with him, and be at
peace."
The promise, "Thereby good shall come unto thee."
These words, " Be at peace," may be referred either to the
former, as an addition to the doctrine, " Be at peace;" that
is, keep yourselves in a quiet submission to the hand of
God ; or to the latter ; and so, " Be at peace," is as much as,
" Peace shall be to thee."
In the doctrine we are to consider the act and object.
40 HEAVEN UPON EARTH ; OR,
The act, Acquaint.
The object is God.
DOCTRINE.
So that the doctrine is, to enter into acquaintance with
God. This proposition stands forth to the view of every eye,
and it is the duty of man to be acquainted v/ith God.
Now the first thing that is before us to inquire after, is,
what this acquaintance wth God is.
Secondly, To evidence and clear it to be the duty of man
to acquaint himself with God. Acquaintance with God
implies several things.
1. It signifies a full and determinate knowledge of this
truth, that there is a God, and so to know him, as to his
natm-e, distinct from all other beings.
There is a three-fold knowledge of God.
1. A rational.
2. A natural.
3. A supernatural.
First, There is a rational knowledge of God, which i.-^
a clear discovery of an almighty, all-sufficient Cause of all
things, which is attained by a reasonable discussing power
of the soul, which argueth from things that are visible and
sensible to an invisible and self-principled Cause of all things.
Man found himself brought into the world furnished vvltli
an innumerable variety of creatm-es, and none of these
having power to make itself; we see likewise such an accu-
rate order in every particular creature, and in all the crea-
tures one with another, that we cannot but see clearly that
there is a supreme almighty Cause of all things, who hath
by his power brought forth all things into being ; who is
likewise the most wise Agent, who, by his unsearchaljlc
wisdom, hath curiously framed every creatiu-e, and by his
wonderful counsel hath set them in such an order, that they
all serve one another, till at length they all meet in man, as
in the common centre.
Secondly, There is a natural knowledge of God, which
is the inward touch and mental sensation of a supreme
righteous Judge, to whose trial we feel ourselves under an
JESUS THE BEST FRIEND OF MAN. 41
imavoidable bond, in doing good and evil. This is that
which is commonly called conscience ; this a man finds in
himself, if at any time he have committed any seci'et sin
whatsoever, which none in the world knows but himself, he
feels it to be a pressure upon his spu'it, as being under the
examination of a power superior to himself. Now tliis is
nothing else but a secret impression that God hath made oi
himself upon the minds of men, by which man is bound to
stand before the tribunal of God. These two ways of
knowing God were very clear to man in his perfect state, but
since the fall of man they are much weakened and decayed.
But,
Thirdly, There is a supernatural way whereby we come
to know God, which hath repaired our loss by Adam's sin,
iiiid that is Ijy God's extraordinary revelation of liimself in
]iis holy Scriptures: by these we may come to have a more
clear, distinct knowledge of God, both that he is, and what
he is. To these three ways of letting the knowledge of God
into the soul, three mental acts of the soul do answer.
First, A rational discourse, by which we find out God by
the creatures.
Secondly, An inward sensation, which feels God as just in
good and evil.
The third mental act is faith, which for its foundation hatli
the word of God.
There is a fourth way of knowing God, which is by experi-
ment ; which is when God manifests himself to his peculiar
ones, and lets out the knowledge of himself to thcu' souls ;
as wlien the sun breaks forth with a bright shining in a
cloudy day : but this belongcth rather to another head.
Thus you see tlie first thing employed in tliis acquaintance
with God, which is the lowest.
Yet how many are there tliat have little acquaintance
with God in tliese signs! May we not come to many who
profess they know God, ami yet among all theu" thoughts
they have had few or none to satisfy themselves concerning
]>im ? IIow gross arc tlie apprelicnsions of some concerning
God ! Some men resist and stifle that natural knowledge
tliat they have of God, such as those, Rom. i. 28 ; they did
42 HEAVEN UPON EARTH ; OR,
not like to retain God in their knowledge, and God gave them
over to a reprobate mind, or a mind void of judgment, as the
word signifies. Others have lived all then* days upon the
bounty and goodness of God, and yet have not been led by
the streams to the fountain from which all hath flowed.
Others can busy themselves all their time in other things,
and little inquire into the word of God, by which they may
be led to the knowledge of him. But woe to those on whom
the fury of the Lord shall be poured out, because they know
not God, Jer. x. 25.
2. Acquaintance with God implies frequent access unto
God. We do not usually reckon ourselves acquainted with
any person, by a bare knowledge that such a person there
is, and that we are able to give some general description of
him ; but when we say we are acquainted with any, it is
understood that we have been in such a one's compan^r, we
have come to him, and been with him : such is our acquain-
tance to be with God.
Under this head I shall speak.
First, Of that separation that is of the soul from &tx/.
Secondly, Of the return of the soul to God.
Thirdly, Of the abiding of the soul with God.
First, Of the separation and distance of the soul from God.
That corrupted estate in wliich eveiy man conies into the
world, is a state of separation from God. This distance is
not to be understood as a physical natural distance, for so
God is near to every one of us by his omnipresence, and by
his infinite power, sustaining us in our being and actions.
" Though he be not far fi-om every one of us : for in him we
live, and move, and have om- being," Acts xvii. 27, 28. But
this is to be understood.
First, Of a moral separation from God. There is a great
strangeness between our souls and God : we reckon ourselves
to have little to do with him, and to be very remotely
concerned in him, we reckon that God takes very little regard
of us, we look upon God as far fi-om us, and we think God
looks upon us as at a gi'eat distance; we love not God, and
think that God loves not us.
Secondly, This separation may be understood of a judicia^
JESUS THE BEST FRIEND OF MAN. 43
distance, cat which God hath set sinful man from himself.
Man is kept out from God, as being unfit to approach to
him in his sinfulness and impurities, and that is cither in
this life, in which condition every one is, till he be made
nigh by Christ, and set before the Father without sin in him ;
till they are born again of the Spirit, and justified and
sanctified by Christ : " Ye that sometimes were afar off,
were made near bj^ the blood of Christ," Eph. ii. 13. Here this
judicial separation is the execution of that terrible sentence,
" Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire, jn-epared
for the devil and his angels," Matt. xxv. 41. Thus ye see the
distance at which man is from God, wliich is not pliysical,
but either moral or judicial.
Secondly, When we are thus separated from God, if we
will be acquainted with him, there is required a returning
to God. Acquaintance doth necessarily imply a union.
Now where there was a former separation and distance, there
is required a motion to compliance, and a return either in
both parties, or in one at least : so that before ever we can
be acquainted with God, there must be a forsaking our for-
mer distance, the separation must be removed. Now God
hath done what could be conceived, and beyond what could
be expected, towards the reducing of us to a union with
himself; whereas, he might justly have thrust us away from
liim for ever, and never have given us liberty to come near
liim more, as being so filtby by sin, that his lioliness cannot
endure us, yet he hath freely set open a door of hope for our
return. He did not come thus nigh to angels when they fell,
but they were turned away from him, and are bound in
chains of darkness to the judgment of the great day; it is
impossible for them to return any more. And so it would
have been for us, had not God made it possible by an act of
free love; and he liath likewise revealed his willingness to
receive us if w^e return, yea, his earnest desire: " Tui"n ye,
why will ye die?" Yea, his rejoicing in our return, as a
father rejoiccth to receive a prodigal son that hath departed
from him. But that God should go farther, to close witli us
while we retain our impuiilies and remain at a distance
fi'om liim, it is impossible, because of the unchangcableness
44 HEAVEN UPON EARTH- OR,
and simplicity of his nature, and because of the purity and
exactness of his holiness ; it must therefore necessarily fol-
low that a yielding and return must be on our parts, or else
there is no possibility of compliance between God and us,
after that we have forsaken him by sin. And this is most
righteous and equal, for man did forsake God, God did not
forsake man ; man made the difference, man ran away from
God. God follows man as far as his holiness and unchange-
able nature will permit him ; he calls to us to return, he is
ready to meet and embrace us in the arms of his love, and
to receive us into acquaintance with himself, as the father
in the parable met his prodigal son, Luke xv. 20, " He saw
him afar off, and had compassion on him, and ran, and fell on
his neck, and kissed him." Herein have we shadowed out to
Tis the great readiness of God to receive returning sinful man •,
but as the prodigal son must return to his father, so man
must return to God. Now it is sin that separates between
us and God, and keeps good things from us : " Your iniquities
have separated between you and your God, and your sins
have hid his face from you," Isa. lix. 2. Therefore, while
we cleave to om* sins, we are separated from God ; till we
are separated from our sins, we cannot be united to God.
Thus ye see our separation from God, and our necessity of
returning to God, before there can be any acquaintance
with him.
Thirdly, To our acquaintance with God is required an
abiding with God. We reckon not ourselves acquainted
with any person upon the first meeting, or when there hath
passed but a word or two between us, but it is supposed to
acquaintance, that we have made a considerable stay with
him, and have had frequent access to him. Thus it is
between God and us ; we must not only come to Mm but
abide with him, or else we shall never be acquainted with
him : " If ye continue in my word, then are ye my disciples,"
John viii. 31. So I say, if you retm-n to God, and continue
with God, then shall ye be acquainted with him indeed.
Acquaintance signifies not a bare act, but a state or habit.
Now this is the difference between an act and a state ; that
an act is passing and is gone, but a state signifies an abiding
JESUS THE BEST FRIEND OV MAX. 45
and continuance. There may he a drawing nigli to God,
without abiding and continuing with God, upon some deep
conviction, or strange providence, or eminent danger ; as it is
said, " In tlieir affliction they \nll seek me early," yet they
may soon forget and forsake God. Tliis is but a seeming and
partial approaching to God, a drawing nigh in appearance,
when the heart is far from God ; but that approaching to God
which makes acquaintance with God, is abiding with him.
Those that are acquainted with a spiritual hfe know these
things what they are, and that they are the greatest realities
in the world ; they know that sometimes there is a gi'eater
nearness of their souls to God ; they are sensible of the ap-
proaches of their heart to God, and of the withdrawing
of their souls from God ; they know what it is for the soul
to feel the approaches of God, and his smiles fill their souls
with un.s])eakable comfort ; and to feel God withdrawing
from the soul, this clouds their joy and makes them go
mourning. They can tell you at such a time they were
l)rought unto his banqueting house, and his banner over
them was love. They can tell you at such a time Christ
came into his garden to eat his pleasant fruits; at such a
time they heard the voice of their beloved, saying, " Open to
me, my sister, my spouse, my love, my dove, my undefiled."
And when the soul hath neglected this knock of Christ to
open to him, that then he hath Avithdrawn ; " I opened to
my beloved, but my beloved had withdrawn himself, and
was gone." These things are the experiences of a precious
child of God, which I fear are little felt and little known
amongst us; but where these things are not there is no
acquaintance with God. For,
First, They do know him.
Secondly, They draw nigh to him, thej' have near access
to him.
Thirdly, They have intunate converse with him. This is
another tiling required to acquaintance. We are not said to
he acquainted with any person, unless we have had intimate
convei-se with him. We may be next neighbours, and yet
have no accjuaintance, unless our conversation hath l)eeu
mutual. So it is between God and us ; there may be a
46 HEAVEN UPON EAETH ; OB,
nigliness between the soul and God, and yet no acquaintance
between the soul and God. We are nigh to God in our de-
pendence upon him, we are near to God by his immediate
providence and sustentation of us, and by his omnipotence.
There is a nearness to God by way of dedication. As God
set apart the children of Israel to be a people near unto
himself, so the visible church of God is nearer to hun
than those that are not of the church. There is a near-
ness of dedication among us by baptism. But all this may
be without acquaintance. There is, therefore, required to
our acquaintance with God, an intimate converse with God.
We have great converse with those who are of tlie family
or society with us : now such is our acquaintance with God,
as those wlio are of his family. God is called the Father of
the families of all the earth ; and the visible church is reck-
oned as God's family : but in a great family there may be
little acquaintance with those persons which be of remote
employments ; but to acquaintance with God there must be
such a relation as implies familiar converse. This intimacy
that the people of God have to him is expressed by the
nearest relations in Scripture: as, Abraham is called the
friend of God : Jehoshaphat prays unto God, and saith, " Art
not thou our God, who didst drive out the inhabitants of
tills land before thy people Israel, and gavest it to the seed of
Abraham thy friend for everl" 2 Chron. xx. 7. "And the
Lord spake unto Moses face to face, as a man speaketh to
his friend," Exod. xxxiii. 11. " Henceforth I call you not
servants; for the servant knoweth not what his Lord
doeth : but I have called you friends ; for all things that I
have heard of my Father I have made known unto you,"
John XV. 15. Now hy friendis commonly understood a state
of converse and society one with another. And this inti-
macy is expressed likewise by the relation of husband and
wife : " For thy Maker is thy husband," Isa. liv. 5. " Then
shall she say, I will go and return to my first husband ; for
then was it better with me than now," Hos. ii. 7. By
husband there is meant God. And the whole Book of
the Canticles is a relation of the mutual converse betwixt
God and liis people, betwixt Christ and liis church, under
JESUS THE BEST FRIEND OF MAN. . 47
the relation of a bridegi-oom and his spouse. Now what
converse more intimate than between husband and wife 1
such is that between a soul acquainted with God. Again,
this is shadowed out to us under the relation of a father and
his children : " Behold what manner of love the Father hath
bestowed upon us, that we should be called liis sons ! " 1 John
iii. 1. And the Holy Spirit is given to be tlie spirit of
adoption in the hearts of God's people : " Ye Lave received
the spirit of adoption, whereby ye cry, AbSa, Father. The
Spu'it itself beareth witness with our spirit, that we are
the cliildren of God," Rom. viii. 15, 16. What is signiiied
by this relation, but a nigh union and intimate converse be-
tween the soul and God ? And this is necessary to our ac-
(iuaintance with God, even intimate converse with God. By
this I mean a nearness of employment, when the objects of
our employments are the same, then are we said to converse
with God, when we are employed about those things where-
in God is most. When there is, as it were, a mutual com-
merce and trading between the soul and God ; man giving
himself up to God, and God giving himself out to man ;
man taking up the interest of God, and God undertaking
for the interest of man ; these and such like actings are the
c-onverse which the soul liath witli God. I speak of things
which the men of the world are not acquainted with; but
those that are acquainted with God know these things,
and upon the mention of them, their hearts leap within
them. As face answereth to face in a glass, so experience
answereth these things. When this string is struck, their
hearts do harmonize ; as when a lute string is stmck, the
other strings of nighest concord with it move also. But
these things are a mystery to the world, and they say, as
those of Christ's word, " We know not what he saith." And
it is no wonder, for tlicy are the actings of a divine life, to
which all are naturally dead, till they arc raised to newness
of life l)y tlie quickening of tlie Si)irit of God. But I proceed
to show what is me.ant by this acfpiaintance with God.
Fourthly, To this acquaintance with God there is re-
quired a mutual commiiuicatioM. Where tlier(! is .acquaint-
ance between man and man, there hath been a mutual inur-
48 . HEAVEN UPON EARTH ; OR,
change of conference and discourses. Thus when the soul
is acquainted with God, there is an interchange of conference
between God and the soul. The soul openeth its wants,
breathes out its complaints, spreadeth its necessities before
God ; God openeth the treasures of his love in his Son, the
rich mines of his precious promises, and the secrets of his
good will to the soul. Thus, Ps. xxv. 14, " The secret of
the Lord is with tliem that fear him, and he will show them
his covenant." " The Lord said, Shall I hide from Abraham
the thing that I do?" Gen. xviii. 17. Those that are friends
and acquaintance, they will let out their thoughts and pur-
poses one to another, and they give out themselves mutu-
ally into communion one with another. Thus Christ knocks
at the door of the soul : " Behold, I stand at the door and
knock : if any man hear my voice and open the door, I will
come in and sup with him, and he with me," Rev. iii. 20.
Here is Christ offering himself to the soul, and the soul is
to entertain him : at another time the soul goes to God,
and God entertains it ; God hath promised that he will open :
" Knock, and it shall be opened unto you," Matt. vii. 7 ;
and to him that knocks it shj-il be opened. Thore are fre-
quent actions among those that are acquainted, an-^ by
these are expressed to us the acquaintance of the soul with
God.
Now, the communications that are between the soul and
God are exceeding transcending all communications that
are lietwoen men's acquaintance. Men may communicate
tlieir thoughts, their estates, their assistance to one another ;
but they cannot communicate their life, nor their nature,
nor their likeness ; but such communications there are be-
tween God and the soul that is acquainted with him. All
being is a communication from God, the first Being : nay, the
several degrees of being have several commimications from
God, some greater and some lesser ; spiritual beings have a
liigher communication than natural ; but God's highest com-
munications have been to man in that mystical union of the
divine nature to the human nature in Christ, and next in
the mystical union of the sons of God to Christ, and in him
to the Father. Thus Christ is said to live in us. " I live,"
JESUS THE BEST FRIEND OP MAX. 49
saith Paul ; "yet not I, but Christ liveth in me," Gal. ii. 20.
Thus Christ prays the Father for his children, that they
may be one, " as thou Father art in me, and I in thee ; that
they may be one in us," John xvii. 11, 21 ; " Whosoever shall
confess tliat Jesus is the Son of (rod, God dwelleth in him,
and he in God. He that dwelleth in love dwelleth in God,"
1 John iv. 15, 16. We are said to be " i^artakers of the divine
nature," 2 Pet. i. 4. This expression implies high com-
munication of God to man. Again, there are high acts of
cumniunication from man to God, (for though God receives
not from man, yet man is to act as giving out himself to
God ;) such as to give up the will to God's will. As that of
Eli : " It is the Lord, let him do what seemeth him good."
And that of David : " If he tluis say, I have no delight in
thee ; behold, here am I, let him do with me as seemeth
good unto him," 2 Sam. xv. 26.
Another act of high communication of a man's self to
God, is parting with present enjoyments for future hopes,
in confidence of God's promise. Thus the spirit of God
works in the children of God a readiness to forsake fixtlier or
mother, and brethren and sisters, and life itself, for the cause
of God. Thus John Baptist was willing to become nothing,
tliat Christ might l)ocomc all, to be cast down, that Christ
might Ijc lifted up ; John iii. 30, " lie must increase, but I
must decrease." Thus Abraham gives his Isaac to die when
Gi)(l calls for liini. Tlius Closes esteemed the reproach of
Clirist greater riches than the treasures of Egypt, Ileb. xi.
26. Paul counted not liis life dear for Clirist, Acts xx. 24.
These have been the actings of the souls of those that liave
been acquainted with God, and such workings as these are
the feeling of a child of God.
I have showed you four things which are requisite to ac-
quaintance with God,
First, Knowledge of God.
Secondly, Access to him.
Thirdly, Converse with liim.
Fourthly, Communication to him, and from him.
Fifthly, Thero is likewise re(iuired to accjuaintance, a
loving compliance. Amongst men acquaintance imidies
60 HEAVEN UPON EARTH ; OR,
affection. And so it is between God and man. Never any
soul vs^as acquainted with God, that did not love God ; and
such a soul is an enemy to God ; therefore, very few are
acquainted with God ; but all that are not acquainted with
God are enemies to God. If we should come to a person
that is not acquainted with God, and say, Thou art an
enemy to God ; this would seem a heavy imputation : but I
speak it fi-eely ; thou, whosoever thou ai-t, that art not ac-
quainted with God, thou art an enemy to God ; for thou art
still as thou wert born: but we are all enemies to God
according to our corrupt nature, and abide enemies till we
come to be acquainted with God. Love to God, and ac-
quaintance with God go together, are heightened liy.one
another. First, God lets into the soul by his Spirit a partial-
discovery of himself, and by this with the working of hi5
Spu-it, he incHnes the heart in love to him. Then on the
first working of the soul towards God, he lets in a clear
light, whereby he draweth the soul to a further degree of
love. A clear place for this, Eph. iii. 17-20, "And that
being rooted and gi'ounded in love, ye may be able to com-
prehend with all saints, Avhat is the length, and breadth,
and depth, and height ; and to know the love of God, which
pisseth knowledge: that ye might be filled Avith all the
fulness of God." The love of God fits the soul to com-
prehend the glorious discoveries of God ; and the discoveries
of God doth heighten our love to God. Acquaintance with
God makes us like unto God ; as in 1 Jobn iii. 2, " We shall see
him as he is." And our likeness to God, as it makes us the
delight of God, so it makes us delight in God ; for the cause
of complacency and love is a likeness between the lover and
beloved. G(xl doth not love us with a love of complacency,
tiU we are like him, nor do we love God, till we are made
like God, Now our beholding God, and being acquainted
with him, is a great way to our being made like God : "We
all, with open face beholding as in a glass the glory of the
Lord, are changed into the same image, from glory to glory,
even as by the Spirit of the Lord," 2 Cor. iii. 18. Thus you
see that love is likewise required to our acquaintance with
God ; without it no acquaintance.
JBSPS the best friend of 5IA>f. 51
."^I have in the first part spoken of the nature, of acquaint-
nVioe with God in five particulars. There must be,
r'First, A knowledge of God.
' i Secondly, Nigh access to God.
Thirdly, Familiar converse A^th God.
Fourthly, IMutual communication between us and God.
Fiftlilv, An affectionate love towards God.
The next thing should be to show that man is to be ac-
quainted with God ; but we will first take a review of these
tilings. We have taken these things into our undei-stand-
ings ; now let us set our hearts to these tilings, for in these
things is the life of rehgion. If there be acquaintance Avith
God, then gi'oss wickedness drops off, as scales fi-om an ulce-
rated body, when the constitution of the body is mended.
In acquaintance with God will be your only true comfort
in this life ; and the perfection of it is the very happiness
of heaven. Let us then behold, till our hearts earnestly
desire, till our souls be dra\\Ti out after acquaintance with
G,Od. If God be to be knoAA-n, to be approached unto, to be
cohverscd with by me, will he communicate himself to me,
:ind I mvsclf to liim? Oh that he would love me, that I
might love him! Oh, blessed are they that know him, as
they are known of him ! It is good for me to dj-a\y nigh to
him. " A day in his coiu-t is better than a thousand else-
where. My soul longeth, yea, fainteth for the pourts of the
Lord. My heart and my flesh crietli out for the living
God." Oh that I were received into converse with God I
that I might hear his voice, and see his countenance,
for his voice is sweet, and his countenance comely ! Oh that
I might communicate myself to God, and that he wcnild give
himself to me! Oh that I might love him! tliat I were
sick of love! that I might die in love! that I might lose
myself in his love, as a small drop in the unfathoniless
depth of Ills love! that I might dwell in tlie eternal love of
him ! Tbis is acquaintance with God.
" Acquahit now therefore thyself with God, and be at
peace ; so .shall good come unto thee." We now jtrocecd to
tlie next tiling, which is to evidence it to be tlie duty of
man to acquaint himself with God. Tiiis then ia that into
62 HEAVEN UPON EARTH; OE,
which the whole Scripture runs, as into a common channel.
The Scriptures are a discovery of God's proceedings with
man under a double covenant, and tliis is the great design
of God in both covenants. The firet covenant was, " That
while man did remain in obedience to God, God would give
man free and intimate acquaintance with liimself.' But if
man became disobedient, then he should be dispossessed of
an interest in God, and of communion with him ; which
was that death threatened upon the eating the forbidden
fruit. The death of tlie body is its being separated from the
soul, but the death of the soul is in separation from God.
Now immediately upon Adam's transgression, man becomes
unacquainted with God ; so that upon the hearing of the
voice of the Lord, " they hid themselves from tlie presence
of the Lord, among the trees of the garden." What a woful
case is man naturally in ! He hath lost his acquaintance
Avith God, and was in a way, never, never to recover it :
upon God's approach he flees. And such is the nature of all
sin, it puts a man into a disposition to greater sins. Every
departure from God inclines towards a greater. In the
fir^t covenant this is the whole of it ; it is both a command
to keep nigh to God, and a promise of God's being nigh to
them, and a threatening of God's putting them away far
fi-om him, man breaking the first covenant. Tlie immedi-
ate effect of it was the sin of fleeing from God, quite con-
trary to that acquaintance. Instead of then- former appre-
liensions of God, they seem to have forgotten his omnipre-
sence ; instead of peace with God, they have nothing but
dread and torment in the thoughts of God ; instead of draw-
ing nigh to God, they run away from him ; instead of con-
verse with God, they choose never to have to do with him
more ; instead of giving themselves up to God, they, if it
had been possible, would have hid themselves fi-om God.
Acquaintance with God is the sum of the first covenant ;
unacquaintance with God is the misery of the breach of the
covenant. Tliis is likewise the gi-eat design and 'purpose of
God in the second covenant. The second covenant is this :
When God beheld man in a miserable condition, by reason
of the breach of the first covenant, in the unsearchable
JESUS THE BEST FRIEND OP MAN. 53
riches of his goodness, according to the eternal purpose of his
good will towards man, he made an agreement with his Son
to send him amongst a generation of sinful men, that if lie
would undertake to bring them back into acquaintance
witli the Father, he was willing and ready to receive them
again into acquaintance with him ; the Son, being the ex-
press image of his Father's will and person, hath the same
good will to man with the Father, and is ready to close with
his Father's proposals; and so enters into a covenant with
the Father to satisfy divine justice, and to take away sin,
and to take away the middle wall of separation, to recover
a chosen generation, and to bring them back again to God.
Tlius he became the head of another covenant between God
and man. And as the first covenant was made with Adam
f T him and his seed, so the second covenant is made with
Jesus Christ for him and his seed. Because the first cove-
nant was broken in Adam, therefore the second covenant
was put into surer hands ; into the hands of the Son, the
second Adam, the Lord from heaven. Now I say that the great
design and jiurpose of this second covenant is in reference to
man's acquaintance with God, is clear. This is held forth to
us in that parable of the lost sheep, Luke xv. 4, 5, " When
tlie shcjihcrd had lost one slieep, he leaves the flock and
seeks for that which was lost." So when man was lost by
sin, Jesus Christ leaves all, to recover and fetch home that
wliich was lost. " We are all gone astray like lost sheep," as
Ihivid saith of himself, Ps. cxix. 176. "Christ is come to seek
and to save that which was lost." " But now in Clirist Jesus
they who sometimes were afar off are made nigh by the
blood of Christ ; for he is our peace who hath made botli
one," Luke xix. 10; Eph. ii. 13, 14. In ver. 12 is a descrij)-
tion of our state without Christ, " being aliens from the
commonwealth of Israel, being strangers from the covenant
of promise, and having no hope and without God in tlie
world." Tliis is a description of our unacquaintance with
God. But Christ makes up the breach, and that by a
double act.
First, By covenant with the Father, to make man fit for
e 'Uimunion with him.
64 HEAVEN UPON EARTH ; OR,
Secondly, His giving man assurance that the Father ■vnll
receive him upon his return.
This then is the great design in all those glorious accom-
plishments of Christ ; for this he left his Father's bosom,
that he might bring us into acquaintance with the Father ;
for this end did he who thought it no robbery to be equal
with the Father, make himself of no reputation, and took
upon him the form of a servant, and was made in the like-
ness of man ; and being found in fasliion of a man, he hum-
bled himself, and became obedient unto death, even the
death of the cross, that he might bring man into a re-union
with God ; for this end did Christ live a wearisome trouble'
some life among a company of rebels and enemies, as if a
man should live among toads and serpents. So that he cried
out, as weary of any longer abiding with them, " 0, faithless
generation ! How long shall I be with you 1 How long shall
I suffer you 1 " For this did he make himself an offering
for sin, that by taking away sin, he might bring men to
God. This is the great purpose of Christ in all his offices.
Ye have heard of the three offices of the JMediator, that he
is a Priest, a Prophet, and a King. This is the end of the
priestly office. The purpose of Christ's offering \\p him-
self a sacrilice was, by satisfying the justice of God, to
make way for sinners' return to God. This is the end of
liis prophetical office, to lead men into knowledge and ac-
quaintance with God. This is the end of his kinglj' office ;
that governing them, and ruling their hearts by his Spirit,
he might effectually bring men to God, to acquaintance witli
him. Now, then, since this is the great design of God in his
great dispensation towards man, to keep man in acquaintance
with himself, and to reduce him when he had lost it ; doth
it not concern us to do our part for the bringing to pass
this gi-eat Avork? Shall God lose his end in making us, and
in setting man in the world every way furnished for his ser-
vice 1 and shall God lose his end in sending his Son to re-
ceive us, v,dien we had forsaken him? Sliall Christ leave
his Father's bosom to bring us home to the Father, and shall
we refuse to return 1 Shall he pour out his soul an otfenng
fur sin, that he might make way for our access to God,
JESCS THE BEST FEIEND OF MAN. 1)5
" That we who were far oflf might be made nigh by tlie
blood of Clirist?" and shall we frustrate all by our refusing
to go to him? Shall Christ come and offer us his help and
direction to come to the Father, and shall we abide still
strangers ? Shall the King's Son come into our cottages to
invite us to dwell with his Father at court, and shall we
shut the door upon him, esteeming our cottages better than
his palace ?
Secondly, It is the duty of man to acquaint himself with
God, because therein is the improvement of his highest
excellency. Every one acknowledgeth an excellency in man,
above all the rest of this lower world. Now what is this
excellency of man ? Is it not that he is made in a capacity
of knowing God, and enjoying God, and having communion
with God ? This is the height of his glory. " Thus saith the
Lord, Let not tlie wise man glory in his wisdom, let not the
mighty man glory in his might, nor the rich man in his
riches; but let him that glorieth glory in this, that he
understandeth and knoweth me, that I am the Lord that
exercise loving-kindness, judgment, and righteousness in
the earth, fur in these things I delight, saith the Lord,"
Jer. ix. 23, 24. Ye see here wherein man is to srlorv, for
which he may value himself as truly glorious. In his under-
standing and knowing of God, man standeth above the rest
of the creatures, intliat he is a rational intellectual agent.
This is part of the image of God, even knowledge, " which
is renewed in knowledge after the image of Iiim that created
him," Col. iii. 10. The nigher anytliing rcscmblcth God,
the greater is the excellency of that thing : now in this we
resemble God more than anj' other crcatui-e, in tliat we are
knowing understanding agents; and the highest improve-
ment of tbis excellency of man is in the knowledge of God
and acquaintance with God: "The si)mt of a man is the
c;indle of tlie Lord," Prov. xx. 27; that is, it is a light set
up in tlie soul, to direct the soul to a discovery of God.
This is the highest improvement of our gi-eatest excellency,
and this is tbe excellency of man above other creatures:
tliis is that wbereby one man excels anotlicr. Who are
those whose names are as precious ointment poured furth i
66 KEAVEN UPON EARTH; OB,
who are those which have obtained a good report 1 Are not
they those who \\TBre most acquainted with God ? Enoch is
said to walk with God ; an expression which signifies inti-
mate acquaintance with God ; and therefore was " translated
that he should not see death." And Noah, whose family
alone was preserved when God destroyed the old world by
water, he was said to walk with God, Gen. vi. 9. Among
all the sons of men he kept close to God ; and God took care
of him alone. Abraham, who was the father of the faithful,
he was called the friend of God. Moses, who was the medi-
ator of the old covenant, he was said to " speak with God
face to face, as a man speaketh to his friend." I might
make mention of many more, who were the excellent ones
of the earth ; because they did delight in God, and God
delighted in them. " They that feared the Lord spake often
one to another; and the Lord hearkened and heard: and the
book of remembrance was written for them that fear the
Lord, and that thought upon his name: And they shall be
mine, saith the Lord of Hosts, in the day when I make up
my jewels," Mai. iii. 16, 17. Ye see how God accounts of
those that are of his acquaintance, that met together and
spake of God, and that thought upon his name ; he reckons
them amongst his jewels, his pecuUar treasure. Such hon-
our have all those that are acquainted with God. Ye see
then the excellency of man above all the rest of the other
creatures. Now if man fail in this which is his highest ex-
cellency, he will become the vilest of creatures. Everything,
if it fail in its chiefest end and purpose, and highest excel-
lency, becomes base and of no account. " If salt lose its sa-
vour," saith our Saviour, " it is good for nothing." If man
have lost his acquaintance with God, he is henceforth good
for nothing. The mind of man is his eye, by which he is to
behold God ; now if tliis eye be blind, if the light be dark-
ness, how great is that darkness ! The Jews, in Ezek. xv. 3,
are likened to a vine, which, if it be barren, is good for no
use : "Shall wood be taken thereof for any work V It is fit
for notliing but to burn. So it is in man, his great use and
excellency is his acquaintance with God : now if he fails in
tills, he is good for nothing. Yerily, man is a base, vile,
JESUS THE BEST FRIEND OF MAN. 57
worthless tiling, without acquaintance with God. None are
less esteemed among men than they that want wisdom to
converse among men. None are less esteemed before God
than they that know him not, that have not acquaintance
with him, to converse with him. Ye see Avherein the excel-
lency and worth of man consisteth, and that if there be a
deformity where ought to be our chiefest beauty, the whole
is accounted as a deformed piece. It concerns us then to
look that we keep our glory unspotted, our excellency in its
due value ; that we do not degrade ourselves below what God
liath placed us in. If we are not acquainted with God, our
souls serve us to little purpose : it is causing the soul [the
prince] to go on foot, and to serve the body, wliich should
be as servant ; it is to let the candle of the Lord bui'n out in
waste.
Thirdly, Another enforcement of this duty of acquaintance
with Gml, is this : If we refuse acquaintance with God, it is
a slighting the greatest of all the mercies that God bestows.
Favours are to be valued, either by their proper excellencies,
or according to the good will of him that bestows them ;
both these ways this is to be accounted the greatest of mer-
cies. In God's giving us leave to be acquainted with him,
he gives out himself to be known, to be loved, to be con-
versed with, to be enjoyed. "What greater gift can God give
than himself i God is the portion of his people, he is the
greatest portion, the surest, the most suitable, and the only
durable portion. Thus they that know him esteem him.
" My flesh and my heart faileth ; but God is the strength of
my heart, and my portion for ever," Ps. ixxiii. 2(5; "The
Lord is the portion of mine inheritance: the lines are fallen
to me in pleasant pla(;es ; yea, I have a goodly heritage,"
Ps. xvi. 5, 6. " Blessed are the people that are in such a
case ; yea, blessed are the people whose God is the Lord."
No greater mercy can be bestowed upon any people, family,
or person, than this, for God to dwell among them. If we
value this mercy according to the excellency and worth of
that which is bestowed, it is the greatest; if we value 't
according to the good will of him that gives it, it will appear
likewise to be the gi'eatest favour. The greatness of the good
58 HEATEN UPON EARTH ; OR,
will of God in giving himself to be our acquaintance, is
evident in the nature of the gift. A man may give his estate
to them to whom his love is not very large, but he never
gives liimself but upon strong affection. God gives abun-
dantly to all the works of his hands ; he causeth the sun to
shine upon tlie evil and upon the good, and the rain to
descend upon the just and the unjust ; but it cannot be con-
ceived that he should give himself to be a portion, a friend,
father, husband, but in abundance of love. "Whosoever
therefore shall refuse acquaintance with God, slighteth the
greatest favoiu" that ever God did bestow upon man. Noav
consider what a high charge this is ; to abuse such a kindness
from God is an act of the greatest vileness. David was
never so provoked as when the King of Ammon abused his
kindness in his ambassadors, after hi6 father's death. And
God is highly jirovoked when his greatest mercies, bestowed
in the greatest love, are rejected and cast away. What could
God give more and better than himself? And how heavy
will this imputation be ! These are those that look upon
God as not worth being acquainted with. Let us therefore
consider how we shall be able to stand to these accusations.
Shall we riot be speechless when these things shall be
charged upon us 1 Shall we not be confounded when we
stand to the trial of Him to whom we had offered these
great indignities ? How shall we escape if we neglect so
great salvation, so gi-eat a mercy.
Fourthly, It concerns us to acquaint om-selves with God,
for without it we are in a necessity of sin and misery.
1. The soul unacquainted with God is in a necessity of
sinning: "Having their understanding darkened, alienated
from the life of God through the ignorance that is in them,
because of the blindness of their hearts," Eph. iv. 18. For
want of acquaintance with God, ever}' thought and imagi-
nation of their heart is evil contmually. " There is none
righteous, no not one. There is none that understands,
there is none that seeketh after God," Rom. iii. 10, 11.
Not understanding, nor seeking after God, is the necessary
cause tliat there is none docth good. The soul of man is an
uctive being, which is continually in motion ; if it be not in
JESUS THE BEST FRIEND OF MAN. 59
•motion to God and in God, it A\-ill be in motion from God.
llence it is that the prayer of the wicked is an abomination:
that which goes for prayer, God abhors, because they are not
acquainted with him : " The ox knoweth his owner, and tlie
ass his master's crib, but Israel doth not know me," Isa. i, 3.
To this, saith he, "your incense is abomination unto me,
the new moons and sabbaths, the calling of assemblies, I
cannot away with ; it is iniquity, even yom* solemn meet-
ings." ver. 13, 14. Now the reason why there is a necessity of
sin without acquaintance with God, is, because whatsoever
is not done with a good heart is not good : " A good man,
out of the good treasure of his heart, bringeth forth good
fruit ; and an evil man, out of the evil treasure of his heart,
bringeth forth evil fruit : for of the abundance of the heart
his moutli speaketli," Luke vi. 45. As an evil tree cannot
Ining forth good fruit, so an evil heart cannot bring forth a
good action. Now witliout knowledge the heart is not good.
"' That tlie soul be without knowledge, it is not good," Prov.
xix. 2. And there is no knowledge like the knowledge of
God, and acquaintance with him, to make the heart good :
" Because there is no truth, nor mercy, nor knowledge of
God in the land ; therefore by swearing, and lying, and kill-
ing, and stealing, and committing adultery, they break out,"
Hosea iv. 1, 2. Tlius, want of knowledge of God and ac-
quaintance witli God, we may plainly see, is the necessary
cause of sin. Now there is no greater evil on this side hell,
than tliat of a necessity of sinning. Those of whom it is
said " they cannot cease from sinning," are called "cursed
children," 2 Pet. ii. 14. lie that chooseth any sin rather
than affliction, doth it through the blindness of his mind.
This is laid as a heavy accusation : " For this liast thou
chosen rather than affliction," Job xxxvi. 21. To choose
iniquity rather than affliction is the greatest folly imaginable.
It is one great jiart of the misery of liell, that they never
cciise from sinning ; and this is the greatest misery on earth,
our being so much under the power of sin. I appeal to any
gracious soul that hath the feeling of the burden of sin ; wliat
is its gi'cat troulile and sorrow i Is it not because of sin I
What are his secret moans to God ? Is it nut the sense ot
GO HEAVEN UPON earth; OR,
coiTuiition ? " 0 wretched man that I am ! who shall deliver
me from the body of this death 1 " saith Paul, Rom. vii. 24.
He had been complaining of the mass of corruption that did
still press hard upon him, and in the strong workings of his
spirit against it, he calls it the body of death. It was as
grievous to him as if he had been bound to a stinking rotten
carcass. How wretched then is the state of every soul
unacquainted with God ; who can do nothing but sin, be-
cause they want the right rule of action, a right pattern of
imitation, a right principle for action, a right object for
action, a right end for action, the only assistance of action.
It concerns us then, as we make any difference between good
and evil, if we have any i-^fspect unto holiness and purity
before sin and iniquity, to see to get acquaintance with God ;
because without acquaintance with God, we are in a woful
necessity of sinning.
2. Without acquaintance with God we are in a necessity
of misery. Indeed sin is a great misery ; and to be in a
necessity of sinning is part of the necessity of misery. But
besides that, there is a necessity of misery of another kind.
What is the great employment of men unacquainted with
God ? " Men labour in the very fire, and weary themselves
for very vanity," Hab. ii. 13. Tliis was the misery of men,
because they know not God. But in ver. 14 there is a pro-
mise of better days: " When the earth shall be filled with tlie
knowledge of the glory of the Lord, as the waters cover the
sea." Then, and not till then, will there be a deliverance
from labouring in the tire when there is the knowledge of
God. The reason of it is, because true satisfaction and
.peace cannot be till our desires and enjoj'ments are alike ;
and this cannot be till the soul is acquainted with God ; for
nothing can fill up the desires of the soul but God. The soul
of man is mighty spacious, so that it cannot be filled with
the world ; and while it feels an emptiness, it still cries out
for more, and cannot be filled till it be filled with the
fulness of God, Eph. iii. 19. The prodigal son had nothing
but husks to feed upon, when he was gone from his fatlier's
house ; he would fain have filled his belly with the husks,
bat could not; they were not food for the soul. When we
JESft: Tin; KKST FKIL.M) UF MAX. Gl
are departed from God, we liave notliinp; to feed on but the
world, and we would fill our souls with the world, but
cannot; for it is not food for the soul. Acf|uaintance with
(Jod is the food of the soul : " I have esteemed the words of
his mouth more than my necessary food," Job xxiii. 12.
So that a soul that is not acquainted with God is famished
for want of food ; " 3Iy soul tliirsteth for (Jod, for the living
God : when shall I come and appear before God ? " Ps. xlii. 2.
David was acquainted with God, but for want of an actual
enjoyment, how doth he here breathe out the trouble of
his spirit ! "As the hart panteth after the water brooks, to
panteth my soul after thee, 0 God," ver. 1. The soul is
still panting. "Some pant after the dust of the earth,"
Amos ii. 7. These were of the serpent's seed, whose curse
from God was, " Dust shalt thou eat : " Init the seed of Christ,
they pant for God, and they that pant after God shall be
tilled with the fulness of God: but he that panteth after
anything besides God will never tind any fulness: he will
feed as upon the dust of the earth. And ^vhat can follow
but dissatisfaction and misery? Acquaintance with God is
the only way to be freed from a necessity of sin and misery.
Fifthly, Acquaintancewith God is the dutyof man, because
God Iiimself doth acquaint himself with man. Shall the
king seek after acquaintance with the meanest of his
subjects, and he refuse acijuaintance with his sovereign?
Shall God acquaint himself with man, and shall not man ac-
(piaint himself with God? It is expected among men, that
the inferior should seek for acquaintance with the superior,
and not the superioi- to the inferior; but yet God, out of his
AS onderful love, hath souglit first to man for acquaintance.
Thus, Prov. viii. 31 , it is said concerning the Son of God, who
is meant iiy tlie Eternal AVisdom uf the Father, that lie
"rejoiced in the liabitable parts of the earth, and his delight
was with th(! sons of men." If God thus delights in converse
and acipiiiintunce with the sons of men, how much more
onght nu'ii to njoicc in converse and ac(iuaintance with God!
God saitli, "1 uni fiminl of tluiii that souglit me not," Isa.
Ixv. 1. All nun were (K']i;irtc(l iVom (Jod, ami not a man
that did seek after God; tliere is none that understands or
62 HEAVEN UPON EAKTH ; OR,
seeks after God, yet God is found of tliem. The good Shep-
herd seeks his lost sheep, before the slieep sought liiin.
When the soul is asleep, it hears the voice of its Beloved
that knocks, saying, "Open to me, my sister, my love,
my dove, my undetiled," Cant. v. 2. Christ saith to the re-
volting cliurch, that he was ready to si)ue tliem out of liis
mouth. "Behold I stand at the door and knock : if any man
will hear me, and open the door, I will come in and sup with
him, and he with me," Rev. iii. 20. "Thou hast ascended
on high, thou hast led captivity captive : thou hast received
gifts for men ; yea, for the rebellious also, that the Lord God
might dwell among them," Ps. Ixviii. 18. Is it not becoming,
then, that man should open when God knocks ? He seeks
to dwell among the rebellious ; is it not iit that man should
enter into acquaintance with God, when God doth thus ac-
quaint himself Avith man 1 Thus I have opened to you the
nature of acquaintance with God, and evidenced it to be the
duty of man to acquaint himself with God ; let us now make
some improvements of tliis truth.
USE I,
First, Is there to he an acquaintance between the soul and
God ? Let us then stand and wonder at the great condescen-
sion of God ! This may surprise our souls with an ecstacy
of admiration, that God should dwell with man ; that the
mighty Jehovah should have such respect to the work of
his hands. "Who is like imto the Lord, who dwelleth on
high, who humbleth himself to behold the things that are in
heaven and in earth?" Ps. cxiii. 5, 6. The Psalmist ad-
mired God, that he humbled himself to behold things that
&re in heaven ; and how much more then is he to be admired
that he humbled himself to acquaint himself with man?
Let us then be filled with a^lmiration, that God should take
US so nigh unto himself. As, Ps. viii. 4, " AVhat is man,
that thou art mindful of him? or the son of man, that thou
shouldst visit him ?" And Job vii. 17, 18, " What is man, that
thou shouldst magnify him 1 and that thou shouldst set thy
heart upon him? and that thou shouldst visit him every
morning?" Man in the pride of his heart seeth no such
JESUS THE BEST FRIEND OF MA^•. 63
great matte*-.' in it, Init a humble soul is filled witli astouibh-
ment. " Thus saith the high and lofty One that inhabiteth
eternity, whose name is Holy; I dwell in tlie high and holy
place, with him also that is of a contrite and huml)lc spirit,
to revive the spirit of the humble, and to revive the lieart
of the contrite ones," Isa. Ivii. 15. Oh, saith the humble soul,
will the Lord have respect unto such a vile worm as I am?
Will the Lord acquaint himself with such a sinful wretch
as I am ? "Will the Lord open his arms, his bosom, his heart
to me? Shall such a loathsome creature as I find favour in
his eyes? In Ezek. xvi. 1-5, we have a relation of the wonder-
ful condescension of God to man, who is there resembled to
a wretched infant cast out in the day of its birth in its blood
and filthiness, no eye pitying it ; such loathsome creatures
are we before God, and yet when he passed by, and saw us
polluted in our blood, he said unto us, Live. It is doubled,
because of the strength of its nature; it was "the time of
love," ver. 8. Tliis was love indeed, that God should
take a filthly wretched thing, and spread his skirts over it,
and cover its nakedness, and swear unto it, and enter into a
covenant with it, and make it his ; that is, that he should
espouse this loathsome thing to himself, that he Avould bu
a liusiiand to it ; this is love unfiithomable, love incon-
ceivable, self-principle love ; this is the love of God to man,
for God is love. Oh the depth of the riclies of the bounty ami
goodness of God ! How is liis love wonderful, and his grace
■past finding out ! How do you find and feel your hearts
afl'ccted upon tlie report of these things? Do you not see
matter of admiration, and cause of wonder i Are you not
as it were launched forth into an ocean of goodness, where
you can sec no shore, nor feel no bottom 1 Ye may make a
judgment of yourselves by the motions and afiections that
ye feel in yourselves at the mention of this. For tluis Christ
judged of the faith of the centurion that said unto him,
"Lord, I am not wortliy tbat thou sliouldst come under my
roof. "When Jesus heard tliis, he marvelled, and said to them
that followed him, I say unto you, I have not found so gi-eat
faith, no, not in Israel," ]Matt. viii. 8, 10. If, then, you feel
not your souls mightil}^ affected with this condescension of
64 HEAVEN UPON EARTU; OR,
God, say tliiis unto your souls, What aileth thee, 0 my
soul, tliat thou art no more afit'ected Avith the goodness of
God 1 Art thou dead, that thou canst not feel 1 Or art thou
blind, that thou canst not see thyself compassed about with
astonishing goodness ? Behold the King of glory descending
from the habitation of his majesty, and coming to visit thee !
nearest not thou his voice, saying, "Open to me, my sister:
behold, I stand at the door and knock. Lift ujj yourselves,
0 ye gates, and be ye lifted up, ye everlasting doors, that the
King of glory may come in. Behold, 0 my soul, how he
waits still \\hile thou hast refused to open to him ! Oh the
wonder of his goodness ! Oh the condescension of his love,
to visit me, to sue unto me, to wait upon me, to be acquaint-
ed with me ! Thus work up your souls into an astonish-
ment at the condescension of God.
USE p.
Secondly, Is there to be acquaintance between the soul
and God? Then let us learn to make a right judgment of
our own excellency; let us judge of ourselves as too high
and noble to converse with this base and beggarly world.
1 am of a nobler original than to debase myself to such
mean things. I am the offspring of God, and shall I acquaint
myself ^^•ith earth l I am of the family of God, and shall I
converse with Satan ? Is there bread enough in my Father's
house, and shall I perish for hunger ? Lift up thyself, 0
my soul, shake off the entanglements of the flesh, break out
of that bondage of the devil, trample upon the glory of the
world, and scorn to let out thy precious desires upon dung
and dross ; get the moon under thy feet, clothe thyself with
the sun, put on the Sun of righteousness, come into the
palace of God, and acquaint thyself with him ; for this is
thy glory, this is thy excellency. You precious ones, who
can call God Father, and the Son Brother, who have fellow-
ship with the Father and the Son, who may have commu-
nion with the Holy Ghost, what do you lying among the
pots 1 What do you raking in dunghills ? What do you
conversing with the world ? Have a holy scorn of these
things as below the dignity of yom- souls: know your
JESCS THE BEST FKIEND OP MAN. 65
worth ; esteem yourselves as of more value than all these
lower treasures. This is your glory and your excellency,
tliat ye are of God's acquaintance, that ye are sons of God,
heirs of God, and jdint heirs with Christ, that ye under-
stand and know God.
There are two things wherein most men are mistaken.
First, In the nature of pride. Some look upon that only
as pride which manifesteth itself in costly ai)parei anil
bodily ornaments beyond the degree and rank of the person.
Some look no farther than the carriage of one man towards
another. Now favourably consider with me, that the great-
est pride in the world is man's imdue esteem of himself
toward God ; and this is in the heart of every one by nature.
Every one l)y nature doth lift iip himself against God, goes
about to dethrone God, and to crown liiinself: everyone
takes counsel in liis heart against the Lord, saying, *•' Let us
break his bands asunder, and cast his cords from us." This
is the voice of every one that dares wilfully to sin : " We
will not have God to rule over us." Yet this is the work-
ing of the pride of a man against God, to thrust God out of
the throne of his majesty, and to set himself in. Fur what
is God's glory and respect among his creatures ? Is it not
this ; that he being the beginning and Author of all, should
lie likewise the end of all '. And this is the very ])urpose of
God in making man, tliat having received himself from
God, he shoukl have what he might freely give up to God ;
so that all man is, and all that he hath, is to be oft'ered
to God, as the euil and centre of all. Now a sinning crea-
ture brings God luidcr to serve him, to ]irovide fur him.
Now though this pride of man against God l)e n(»t so mncli
taken notice of, yet it is the very daring sin of the world.
It is indeed to be wondered at, that ever creature did cast
out the first thoughts of such an attempt. Now consider
liow Sir man'.s pride is from his true excellency m his union
with God. We are therefore to distinguish between that
liigh esteem tiiat man is to have of himself, and pride. For
man to look u])on liimself as a noble being, and of rank
above all the natnral world, it is not jiride, for thus he is
(being a spiritual understanding agent) in a capacity of
G6 iiEAVF,:,' rroN E.vntn ; or,
being acquainted with God, of being unitetl to God, and as I
may say, of exchanging himself witli God.
Secondly, Another mistake of most men is, concerning
their dignity and excellency, and in the rnle and measure
of their excellency. Most measure their dignity by the
advantage which they have over others in this world : as
some in their power and authority ; some in their friends
and relations ; some in their riches and estates ; some in
their wisdom and faculties; some in their strength and
power. And what more universal evil is there than this,
for every one into something or otiier to lift himself up in
his own esteem, and in his thoughts to tread upon others,
as something inferior to himself? But men lie blinded in
then- own delusions, not considering what is the true excel-
lency of man; nor know the right rule by which man's
worth is to be judged of. The way for us to judge rightly
concerning ourselves, is to see how we stand towards God.
God is the perfection of excellency ; and the nigher we are
to God, the gTcater is our excellency. This is the greatness
of a nation, to be nigh to God. " What nation is there so
great, which hath God so nigh unto theml" Dent. iv. 7.
And Amos viii. 7, God is called the excellency of Jacob.
God sweareth not by anything below himself; therefore
God is here meant. God is called. the Glory of his people.
" The Lord shall be to tliee an everlasting light, and thy
God thy glory," Isa. Ix. 19. Now God is the glory of those
that are acquainted with liira.
First, By virtue of the relation wherein God stands
towards them. An intimate relation to those that are per-
sons of dignity and wortli doth communicate worth and
dignity to those who arc so related to them. Thus the son of
a mean man is not so highly valued and esteemed as the
son of a prince. David reckoned it to be a great thing to
be son-in-law to a king : " Who am I, and what is my life,
or my father's family in Israel, that I should be son-in-law
to the kingf i Sam. xviii. 18. Thus are we to reckon it
onr dignity and excellency to be in nigh relation to God,
to be sons of God, to lie heirs of God, and to be the friends
of God; wliat greater honour than this, to be in such
JESUS THE BEST FRIEND OF MAN. 67
a nigh relation to the God of glory ? Now the excellency
that we have from this relation ariseth from the excellency
of that act which is the fuiinJatiun of this relation, and that
is our being born of God, as we are sons, John i. 12, 13.
God marrying us to himself, as he is oiu- Husband ; " Turn,
0 backsliding childi'en, saith the Lord, fur I am married
unto you," Jer. iii. 14. God takes us into fellowship and
communion and acquaintance with himself, as he makes us
his friends and his acquaintance. This act of God doth
instamp a wurth and excellency upon man, as the impres-
sion of the king's seal upon wax, and makes it of value. It
is spoken as the glory of the servants of God. Those that
follow the Lamb, '' thej- shall see his foce, and his name
shall be in their foreheads," Rev. xxii. 4 ; that is, God hath
chosen, and, as it were, marked them out for his own : and
this marking them and owning them sets a high dignity
upon them, such as secures them from the curse that is to
be upon all besides ; as. Rev. ix. 4, they aro commanded to
liurt none " but tlnjse who have not the seal of God on their
foreheads." This relation of the soul to God gives the soul
an excellency, as it doth interest the soul in the glory and
excellency of God himself; they are God's, and God is
theirs; " I will dwell in them, and walk with them, and I
will be their God, and they shall be my peo])le," 2 Cor. vi.
1 G. lie argues, from the dignity of this i-elation, that they
should count themselves too good to converse with the
world ; " AVherefure, come out from among them, and be ye
separate, saith the Loi-d, and touch not the unclean thing;
and I will receive you, and be a Father unto you, and ye
shall be my sons and daughters, saith the Lord," ver. 17.
Thus you see the dignity that is upon the soul by its
acquaintance with God. Our relation to God in our acquaint-
ance with him, doth ennoble ns, lift us above the world,
make us that we are too good fir tlie company of those that
are not acquainted with God. It is then no j^ride in us thus
to esteem ourselves, to have high thoughts of ourselves,
because of that acquaintance which our souls are to have
with God. It is jiride to think too highly of ourselves;
but it is sobriety to think of ourselves according to that
6S ^EAVE^' utoN eartu ; or,
actixiaintance which we have with God. " I say, through
the grace of God given to me, to every man that is among
you, not to think of himself more highly than he ought to
think ; but to think soberly, according as God hath dealt to
every man the measure of faith," Rom. xii. 3. Here the
apostle commands them to measure the esteem which they
have of themselves by tiie measure of faith which they
have from God ; because by faith they come to be valued
excellent in the eye of God. So likewise we are to measure
our esteem which we have of ourselves by the measure of
our acquaintance which we have with God ; because by ac-
quaintance with him, wc come to be truly excellent. And
while we do thus, we shall not think more highly of our-
selves than we ought to think: for while we account our-
selves excellent because of our acquaintance with Gud, we,
in lifting up ourselves, magnify God ; and while we thus
glory, we glory in the Lord, 1 Gor. i. 31. But now herein
we are to beware of two things.
First, That we distinguish carefully between our capacity
of being acquainted with God, and our being actually ac-
quainted Avith him; for our, capacity, or being so as that we
may be acquainted with God, is of no worth, unless we be
actually acquainted with him. We are in a remote capacity
naturally as men, and we are in a more nigh capacity by
the mercy and covenant of God ; but this adds no true worth
to the soul, without the actual acquaintance of the soul
with God. Yea, man is the worse for this, if he be A\'ithout
the other; for if man, being made lit for enjoyment of God
and communion with him, and never attain to an enjoy-
ment of him, he becomes more vile than those things whose
nature is inferior, if they attain to the jjerfection of that
nature. And it is like to fare worse with man, if he fall
short of the glory of God, because he was capalile of the
glory of God, than with beasts which are not cajmble of it.
And again, in regard of that more nigh capacity wherein
we are by Jesus Christ of acquaintance with God, if we
are not really acquainted with God, we shall thereby
not only have no addition of excellency, but thereby we
shall be more vile and miseralile: and therefore those
JESrS TnE BEST FRIEXD OP MAN. fiO
who through the mercy of God have been iii the visible
cliurch, and have heard of the good will of God to man
tlirougli Christ, and know that God is ready to entertain
them into acqnaintance with himself ; if they shali fall short
of this, their condemnation will be greater tlian that of those
who never heard of God's invitation and liis gTace in Jesns
Christ. If we therefore shall glory in onr capacity of being
of the acquaintance of God, and neglect to be really ac-
quainted with liim, we do but as the Jews of old, a\ ho cried
out, " The temple of the Lord arc these," Jer. vii. 4. And
tlie nigher we are to God, if we do not come to a thorough
closure with him, the uigher we are to the stroke of his
wrath : as the nigher any is to a musket-shot, the greater
will the force of it be upon Irim. Distinguish, therefore,
^between our capacity of being acquainted \\ ith God, and
oiu' actual acquaintance with him.
Secondly, ^^'o must Ijeware lest in our esteem of ourselves
we lay the foundation of our glory in ourselves. There is
tliat in every one's corrupt nature which doth provoke him
toit: so that I dare boldly say that there is not a man in
liis corrupt natural state who doth not, some v.-ay or other,
lift up himself in his own esteem for something of his own.
And we ;ire apt to make eveiy spiritual excellency to be
matter for ]>ride and self-conceitedness. We do not sufli-
ciently eye (Jod as the fountain, the author, the foundation,
the rule, and pattern of all our excellency. Such is the way
wherein God receiveth man to acquaintance with himself,
that he might hide pride from his eyes, and that no flesh
might glory in his presence, 1 Cor. i. 29. If Ave therefore
lay the foundation of our glory in oureelves, and please our-
selves in the sparks that we have kindled, we shall glory in
our shame, and lie down in sorrow. Tliis high esteem which
tre are to have of ourselves, because of our acquaintance
with God, doth not at all contradict that precious grace
of humility, but they rather heli) forward one another; for
the more any esteems himself, because of that relation
which he hath to God, the less is the esteem of himself, be-
cause of anything of his own; the more A\e make God the
matti-r of our gloi v. tlie less do wc glory in ourselves; the
70 HEAVEN tJPON EAKTH ; OR,
more we a,pprehen(l of oui' excellency being from God, the
less account do we make of all other seeming excellencies.
When the light of the sun ariseth, then all star-light dis-
appears.
First, All dignity we have seems to arise from that rela-
tion which we have to God in acquaintance with him.
Secondly, By acquaintance with God, we come to have
an absolute positive dignity, which is real in our persons,
yet still depending upon God. As by our union with Christ,
we come to have a righteousness imputed, which is our jus-
titication, and a righteousness likewise inherent, which is
our sanctification ; so, by our acquaintance Avith God, we
have a dignity, as it were, imputed by our relation to God,
and a dignity real, which is that excellency whereby we
are made absolutely better. By acquaintance with God we
come to be like God ; and the image of God in us is the
greatest excellency that we are capable of. When Moses
had been forty days in the mount with God, his face did
shine with such a brightness, that the people could not
behold him: so those that converee with God retain a
lustre which shines in their converse with men. The image
or picture of any worthy person is esteemed by them that
esteem the person, and this esteem of it is from a relation
which it hath to that person ; but now the children of any
person whom we love, being a lively image of their father's
person, have another value upon them, having not only a
relation worthy, because of their resemblance in the out-
ward lineament, but a real participation of nature and dis-
position, which they receive from their father : so there is
an excellency in those that are acquainted with God, not
only as being in relation to him, but as receiving, and being
partakers of the divine nature. As children learn to i)ro-
nounce their words according to the pronunciation of the
mother or nurse with whom they converse, (as every one
is apt to be formed imto the manner and disposition of
the company wherein they most usually are ;) thus those
who converse with God become in some measure like unto
God; and this is positive personal excellency which those
have which converse with God. Thus the Apostle John
JESUS THE BEST FRIEND OF MAX. 71
urgetli concerning tliat perfection of glory and excellencj',
vhich lu'rcafter is to be upon those that are the sons of
God: "But it doth not yet appear what we shall be, but
we know that when he shall appear, we shall be like him,
for we shall see him as he is." In heaven we shall be like
God, because we shall see God; and on earth, those that
converse with God shall in some measure be like God, ac-
cording to their measure of acquaintance with him. And
so Paul argues concerning this present life : " But we all,
with open face beholding as in a glass the glory of the
Lord, are changed into the same image, fi"om glory to glory,
even as by the Spirit of the Lord," 2 Cor. iii. 18. Here we
see clearly, that beholding the glory of the Lord doth change
into the same image of God, and likewise that this image
of God only is the glory of man ; for that is meant by " from
glory to gloiy ;" that is, from one degree of glorious simili-
tude to another degree of glorious resemblance and likeness
to God. Thus ye have seen that the excellency of man
consistetli in his acquaintance with God ; and that, by the
virtue of his relation to God, he hath an iminitcd excellency;
and an exct'llcncy by his propriety in God, in whom is all
excellency: and that by his converse with God, and ac-
quaintance with him, he becomes really like God, which is
liis inherent excellency. Let us then reckon of ourselves
as those who liave their dignity and excellency from God,
and in this let us glory, that we know God, and are ac-
quainted with God. This is the second use of this proi^o-
bition.
USE III.
First, If man ought to be acquainted with God, then let
us all inquire into ourselves, whether we are acquainted with
him or no. Let us every one turn into our own bosoms, and
r.'Ai. ourselves this question; Thou hast heard, 0 my soul,
tliat which is thy great duty, that wliicli is the very end of
thy creation and thy redemption, and that the highest per-
fection of tbv noblest facultv consists in knowini; God, and
being ac(iuainted with him, which cont;iins a nigh uuion to
him, and intiniute conveiiie with him, and mutual comniuu-
72 HEAVEN UPON EARTH; OR,
ion to God, and from God, and radicated unmovcable love to
God ; these are excellent things, 0 my soul : what is thy
case ? Art thou one of those precious ones, who converse
oft with God, and talk oft of God, whom ho will make up
with his jewels 1 Or art thou onp of those wretched crea-
tures, who are alienated from the life of God by reason of
the ignorance that is in them 1 Or art thou one of those who,
having been sometimes afar off, are now made nigh to God
by the blood of Christ, and so are led into fellowship and
communion with the Father and the Son by the Spirit ?
Or art thou one of those who look upon God afar off, and
whom God looks upon afar off] I beseech you, every one
of you, deal seriously and accurately with yourselves in
this inquiry ; for it is most certain that most men in the
world, yea, in the visible cliurcli, are not acquainted with
God. Thus it hath been in all generations from the begin-
ning of the world, and thus it is at this day : the people of
God have been like a little flock of sheep, while the rest are
like locusts, covering the whole face of the earth. The peo-
ple of God have still complained that they are but as the
gleaning of the vintage, and as two or three olive-berries in
the top of the utmost branches, when the rest have been
gathered. The visible church of God, in respect of the rest
of the world, how small a part is it ! In the visible church
how few live up to their religion, by any considerable pro-
fession I How little difi'erence is there between most among
lis, and heathens ! And of those that profess, and lay claim
to something beyond others among whom they live, how
many betray their profession by their wicked practice and
worldly conversation ! So that when we have made inquiry,
there will remain very few of tliose that are really acquaint-
ed with God ; it concerns us then to be very diligent in in-
quiring, what is our case ? — how we stand towards God.
Secondly, I shall be the more earnest in i^ressing you
upon a diligent search into what acquaintance you have
gotten with God, because I know that those that have least
acquaintance with God are most apt to neglect this inquiry.
It may be, a tender soul that hath been much with God will
be ready upon the first hint to enter into the secrets of Ins
JESDS THE BEST FKIENH OF MAN. 73
own heart, to look over liis evidences, to call to niiiul, When
have I drawn nigh to God? When have I conversed with
God ? When have I communion with God ? Ilath my life
l)een a walking with God ? Have I dwelt with God, and
made my abode with hiin ? Thus the soul that makes high
account of its acquaintance with God will be trung and ex-
amining itself; and it may be, upun its more awakened
signs of its sometimes departing from God, or feeling some
present strangeness, it will be apt to conclude of itself. Surely
I am none of those precious ones whose life is a converse
with God. But the common generation of the world, oh,
how hardly will they be brought to asi themselves this
((uestiun, whether they are of the acquaintance of God or no !
How often have they been urged with a great ami vehement
affection upon trial, how their souls stand towards God !
andhithert(^ they have neglected it. I\Iany are so inconsid-
erate as to think what is spoken is nothing to them : they
come and sit in the congregation, but their hearts are out
of reach, out of the shot of the word ; so they go away, and
the word to them is as if it had Udt been. Many are so
light and vain, and frothy in their si>irits, as that the streams
will almost as soon return to their fountain, as they will be
persuaded to turn in and inquire into their own souls. In all
naturally there is an averseness to come to the light, that
their works and hearts may be manifested. If I should
come to you one by one, and beseech you Avith the greatest
earnestness wherewith I were able, when you go from tho
congregation to take opportunity to go in secret, and enter
upon trial with your hearts, and ask yourselves thoroughly
this question, and let them not alone till you have a clear
determinate answer, whether you are in a state of acquain-
tance with God ; I fear you would go, one to his pleasui-es,
another to thi« vanity, and another to this covetousness, and
iihnost all of you neglect this work of so great concernment.
Let me thenfore urge you with all earnestness, that you will
not account it a small matter, whether you be acquainted
with God or not; and so mglect this trial of yourselves:
but bring up your liearts roundly to the examination, yield
not to their umcasouablc withdrawings, force them to an-
74 HEAVEN UrON EARTH ; OR,
Mvcv. If you make any account of the charge of God, if yo u
make any account of the excellency of man, if you wouUl
not lose the 'highest privilege of the creature, if you haVe
any esteem of the life of heaven, know yourselves in this,
whether you are in a state of acquaintance with God, and be
serious and diligent in this inquiry.
Thii'dly, Because men are so exceeding apt to he mistaken,
and to misapprehend concerr.'ing themselves, that they are
in a state of acquaintance with God, while they are mere
strangers unto him ; such as those whom our Saviour speaks
of, IMatt. vii. 22, 23, " Many will say to me in that day. Lord
Lord, have we not prophesied in thy name ? and in thy name
have cast out devils 1 and in thy name done many wonder-
ful works 1 " and then he will profess unto them, " I never
knew you : depart from me, ye workers of iniquity." They
take it for granted, that because of such privileges, and gifts,
and common graces which they had, therefore they were well
acquainted with Christ ; but our Saviour answereth, " I never
knew you ;" that is, I never had any acquaintance with you.
Such are those who are resembled to us by five fooUsh
virgins. Matt. xxv. 11, 12. The five foolish virgins come wheri
the door is shut, and say, " Lord, Lord, open unto us ;" but he
answereth, "Verily I say unto you, I know you not;" that
is, never had acquaintance with you : you never knew me
in the time of your life, and I will not know you now : you
were ashamed to own me before men, and I will be ashamed
to own you before my Father. Men are so apt to be mista-
ken in judgment of themselves, that they think themselves
rich and increasing with goods, and to have need of nothing,
when they are wretched, miserable, and poor, and blind,
and naked. And this made David to cry out, after he had
been trying himself, " Search me, 0 God, and know my
heart ; try me, and know my thoughts ; and see if there be
any wicked way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting,"
Ps. cxxxix. 23, 24. This unaptness in us to make a right
judgment of oirrselves in our relation to God, ariseth,
First, From that deep root of self-love that is in us by
nature, whereby we are apt to apprehend well of ourselves,
and please ourselves with a good conceit of ourselves, though
JESUS THE BEST FRIEND OF MAX. 75
vre are never so bad. And such is the nature of this affec-
tion, that it l)linds our eyes, and prejudices the mind, that
it cannot make a ri<:;ht judgment. As aftection in some pa-
rents to then' chilch'cn makes them reckon that which is a
blemish to be a beauty in their cliilihx'U; so dotli inordin-
ate self-love work in men, in the judgment of tliemselves.
Men, wlien they judge themselves, look into a flattering
glass, which presents them in greater beauty than that which
is their own.
Secondly, We judge amiss of ourselves, because we take
not a right rule fur our judgments, as those of whom Paul
speaks, 2 Cor. x. 12: "Some commend themselves: but
they, measuring themselves by themselves, and comparing
themselves witli themselves, are not wise." If we take our-
selves to be the rule and measure, tl\en we cannot discern
our own crookedness and irregularness.
Thirdly, We judge amiss of ourselves, because of the de-
ceitfulness of our hearts. " The heart is deceitful above all
things, and desperately wicked: who can know it? Jcr. xvii.
9. Gross wickedness is apparent to the purblind eye ; but
v/here there is an abstaining from gross outward sins, there
arc special workings of corruption, such as pi-ide, self-love,
distrust of God, and love of the- world; any of which shut
up tlie soul against God, as with bolts and bars; and these
lying inward are not discerned. Other accounts may be
given of the imaptness to make a due judgment of our-
selves. It concerns us, therefore, to be exact in o)ir trial,
and trust not to a sudden answer; for we arc ready to make
a short work of it, and to save ourselves tbe labour, ami to
sit down with charitable thoughts of ourselves. Wliatso-
ever answer, therefore, our hearts give us, let us sec cleared,
and have such reason for it, that wc may know how to \n-o-
cecd with ourselves, upon a right judgment of ourselves.
The chief work of trial in this particular acquaintance with
God will be from those ])articulars wlierein I o])ened tin-
nature of the fioul's acquaintance with God. Let us, there-
fore, take those heads, and our own experience of ourselves,
and by a rational deduction, let us fni<l out our own estate.
As thus : 1. Those that arc acquainted with God arc brouglit
7G UEAVKN UrON iJAllTU; OR,
nigh to God. Wlieroas sometimes there was a strangeness
and remoteness, a vast separation, now the partition is taken
out of the way, and I am made one in Christ. I have taken
God to be my portion and my Father ; I have been a pro-
digal, and have departed from him; but I, tinding myself
lost and undone, and that nothing could satisfy my soul in
the world, therefore I resolved I would return to my Father's
house, and try if he would receive me again into his fimiily.
And so I have done: I have cast oif my old converse with
the world and with corruption; I have broken my league
with hell, and have entered into a covenant with the Father,
through his Son Jesus Christ ; therefore I may comfortably
conclude that I am now in a state of acquaintance with
God.
But if, in the inquiry into myself, I find not these things,
if I find that now I am as in former days ; I have felt no
such change in myself, and that all things are with me as
they were of old ; I never was sensible of any loss in myself;
I never knew what strangeness and nighness to God meant ;
I never understood what union with God and distance from
God was ; this signifies ill, it is a symptom of a bad state,
of a state of unacquaintance with God.
2. So again, for our converse with God. He that is ac-
quainted with God hath had his converse with God, he
hath d\velt with God, and God with him ; he hath supped
with Christ, and Christ with him ; his great business and
employment hath been nigh God, in those things wherein is
most of God. If I find my soul much conversing with God,
oft sending out breathings to heaven, oft casting my eye
towards God ; if I find the great work of my mind to be
with God, my great business lies in heaven, my treasure is
laid up there, and my thoughts, and desires, and joys, and
delights, and meditations are there ; I may comfortably con-
clude that I am in some measure acquainted with God.
But if, in the inquiry into myself, I find that I have my
whole converse with the world, that I can alford no time
for prayer to God in my family and in secret; if I find all
the day long my cares, and desires, and thoughts, run out
most naturally and fully without control towards the things
JESCS THE BEST PRIE.VI* OF MA\. 77'
of tlie world, or that I will mind myself in a natural carnal
way, and mind not the things of God ; this signifies to me
my unacquaintance with God, and it will be an unground-
ed presumption in me to reckon myself any other than a
stranger to him.
3. So for communion and fellowship, wliich is in acquaint-
ance. Those that are intimately acquainted, their com-
munion in the way of discourse is very frequent, in making
known their thoughts and apprehensions, their fears anc?
wants ; their minds are open one to another, and that which
is tlie propriety of one is by their acquaintance communi-
cated to the use of both. If, then, I can find, in reviewing
the workings of my soul, that there hath been this sight of
lieaven, this spiritual communion lietween my soul and God;
that my heart hath been open to God ; that I have gone to
God when my heart hath been burdened with sorrow, I have
discharged it into the bosom of God, as into the bosom of a
friend ; that in my doubts I have betaken myself to him,
expecting comfort from him ; that upon hearing his voice,
I have opened to him, and upon my opening he hath come
in with smiles of love, and given me tokens of his favour ;
these things signify a state of acquaintance with God. But
if I know not what it is to have given up my soul to God,
to be his, and to have taken God to bo mine ; if I have had
experience of receiving nothing else from God, but a par-
taking of the things of the world ; if I have not been wont
to communicate the workings of my mind to God, it be-
tokeneth my unacquaintance with God.
4. And again, for that friendly working of love and affec-
tion in the soul towards God. Those that are in a state of
acquaintance are supposed to comply with each other in
kindness, and love, and good will, and aHection. If, then,
I can, upon search into myself, find that God hath the high-
est room in my affections, that my heart is his, that his
love is prevailing with me above the love of all things be-
sides, and that I love those that are his beloved for his sake,
then I liuve in me a sign of real acquaintance with God ;
for love is the very quintessence of acquamtance : but if, in
the search into the workini^s of my mind, I can i'nid no
78 HEAVEN UPO^' EARTH; OK,
Buch friendly compliance, but that God was still thwarting
and crossing my designs, that I should tind myself better
content if there were no God, and that those workings of
my mind that are about God are sour, harsh, and tearing
upon my spirit ; then it is to be feared that I have no ac-
quaintance with God.
And hast thou made an impartial inquiry into thy state?
And how stand things between thy soul and God ? Art thou
acquainted with hjm, or art thou not ? Consider seriously,
O sinners, that this is one of the weightiest questions in the
V'orld ; and if this question were but well resolved, it would
put an end to a thousand other questions. He that can say
of God and Christ, This is my Beloved, and this is my Friend,
he need not very solicitously aslc, what news ? He hath
heard good news from heaven, wliich will easily balance all ;
come what will come, he need not much pass, as long as
there stands that one text in the Bible, that " all shall work
together for good to them that love God." He hath no
cause to go a-begging to the world, and to say, " Who will
shoAv me any good ? " As long as the Lord hath shined upon
him with the light of his countenance, he need not com-
plain. What shall I do? I have lost this or that dear friend;
when he hath found Inm who can make up all with one
look, whom he can never lose. In a word, he need not ask,
How shall I do to live ? and what shall I eat, and what
shall I drink, and wherewithal shall I be clothed ? so long
as he kno\vs that he hath a noble Friend, who will ease him
of all his care, and never see him want. Well then, hast
thou answered this great question or not ? Or wilt thou do
\s'ith thy conscience as Felix, put it off", and say thou wilt
liear of these matters at some more convenient season ?
and I wonder when that more convenient season will be ;
and why not now, I pray ? What season more fit than the
present ? I am sure God saith, " Now is the acceptable time ;"
and do you know better than he ? What hast thou to do that
is more necessary ? Speak out, I pray. Is the following of thy
pleasures ? Is the serving of Satan ? Is the damning of thy
soul more necessary than the saving of it ? Is the life and
dtath of a soul uuthin^^ ? Ave everlaiting glory and misery
JESUS Tnn BE3T FUIEXB OP JifAX. 7^
small mattei's ? Is the love or hatred of thy God so incou-
Biderable a thing ? Awake, 0 sinner, wliat meanest thou ?
Arise speedily, and look ahout thee, man. Consider seriously,
as thou vainest thy soul, what best becomes a sinner in thy
condition. What answer shall I return to my Master ?
Are not these tilings worth the thinking of '? Shall I say
f )r all this, that thou art not at leisure to look after an
interest in his fiivour, or anytliing that tends to it I Shall
I tell him that thou hast something of greater weight and
higher importance to trouble your head with? And do you
in sober sadness think so ? For j-ou make account that ex-
cuse is sufficient? I pray, then, make use of it yourself; for
I dare not. When God shall come to ask you, wliy you did
no more vigorously mind the getting acquaintance witli
himself, tell him then, if you tliink that answer Avill serve
your turn, that you were not at leisure, you had such urgent
occasions which took up the whole of your time, such and
Buch a friend yuu had, who sent for you to the tavern, and
you could not possibly come when he invited you ; tell him,
if you believe that plea will hold water, that you would havo
been glad to have come upon his invitation, but that you
were taken up witli such good old friends, t'ue world, tho
flesh, and the devil. How do you think such an answer
will be taken? You may think to put us off with sucli
kind ()f reasons as this : Imt do you hope Ijy this answer
to satisfy your Judge ? Believe it, sinner, God will not
thus be put off. Wherefore I do again, with all the earnest-
ness I can for my soul, renew my suit to thee, that tliou
Would.-it act like a man in liis wits; make some serious
in([uiry into the state and condition of thy soul. And
consider, for the Lord's sjike, again and again, before you
send me away thus, wliat errand I come to you on. It
is to treat with you about a rieli match for thy poor undone
Boul: therefore consider well what you do belbre you mako
light of this liiisiness, and know when you aie well oHi-red ;
believe it, God will not long send after you in this manner,
and you are not like every tlay to have such proffers ; divine
patience and goodness will not always plead at this rate with
j'ouj God will ere l-jii;;; say, Let thc;n alui;c ; the Lojd will
80 HEAVKX I'I'OX EAKTn; OR,
ere lung speak to scornful sinners in such language that
will make their ears to tingle ; he will despise and slight
as well as they : and who is like to have the worst of it at
last. I leave to any rational man to judge? The time is
coming, when your ungodl^^ hearts shall ache to see Ilini
whom you might have had for your Husband ; when you
shall have him for your Judge, whom you might have had
for your Advocate. And though we could not get you to he
willing to be acquainted with him, no, not so much as to
have any serious thoughts about it, or to make any inquiry
after him, to inform yourself concerning him; yet you shall
have him for your enemy whether you will or no. But, oh,
let us not part thus I let me, a man like thyself, reason the
case a little more with thee. Come, tell me, poor ignorant
creature, thou that still standest demurring, and sayest.
Shall I, shall I '? what evil is there in thy God, that thou
shouldst be thus hardly brought so much as to discourse
this business with thy own soul 1 What is the reason that
thou scarce thinkest it worth thy while to trouble thy head
about anything that doth concern yoiir interest in his love?
Thou that mindest his love so little, tell me, what dost
thou think had become of thee long before this, if God
had regarded thee as little as thou dost hhn 1 What wouldst
thou have done, had the Lord said to any disease, the
least of his messengers. Fetch that rebel before me, that
values not my favour ; he shall know what my anger is,
seeing he will not prize my love. Oh, what a lamentable
case hadst thou been in had God but done by thee as thou
hast by him ? Acquaintance -with God ! Methinks sinful
man should stand and wonder at such a word ; methinks he
should be even surprised with an ecstacy of admiration, and
eay. And will God indeed be acquainted with such a worm,
such a dead dog, such a rebel as I ? " Lord, what is man
that thou art mindful of him : or the son of man, that
thou shoiildst make such an otter to himi" One would
think thou shouldst no more dispute the matter than Esther
did, when that great monarch made her liis queen. Were
it but in sensible things, that nothing near such an oflt'er
were madoj (which is impossible,) man would tliink the very
JrSl'S TUE BEST FllIEXD OF MAX. 81
questioning ia such a case a stmiige folly. One would think
that every one of God's enemies that have been in open re-
bellion against him, and are utterly unable to make their part
good against him, ■when they hear of such terms of mercy
from their Prince, who hath all their lives in his hand,
should rejoice at this news, and say, "IIow beautiful are the
feet of them who bring such tidings!" IIow did Benha-
dad look, when instead of a halter he had a coach ! when
instead of Rebel, he heard, Brother! Whatever we may
think of these things, David thought it high time for him
to bid such a messenger welcome, and to open his heart for
the receiving his God. Hear what he saith to his own heart
and others : " Lift up your heads, 0 yc gates ; and be ye
lifted up, ye everlasting doors ; and the King of glory shall
come in," Ps. xxiv. 7. And because the door of men's hearts
is locked, and barred, and bolted, and men are in a deep
sleep, and will not hear the knocking that is at the gate,
though it be loud, though it be a King ; therefore David
knocks again, " Lift up your heads, 0 ye gates, and be yo
lifted uj), ye everlasting doors." Why, what haste, saith
the sinner ? What haste ? Why, here's the King at your
gates ; and that not an ordinary king neither ; he is a glorious
King, that will honour you so far, if youoi)en quickly, as to
lodge within, to take up his a])ode in your house, to dwell
with you. But the soul for all this doth not yet open, but
stands still (uiestioning, as if it were an enemy ratbei- tliau
a friend that stood there, and asks, '' Who is this King of
glory?" Who? He answers again, " It is the Lord of
liosts;" IIo that if you will not open ([uickly and thankfully
too, can easily pull your huuscdown about your ears; lie is
the Lord of hosts, that King who hath amiglity army always
at his command, who stands ready for their commission, and
then you should know who it is you might have had for 3'our
friend ; " Lift up, therefore, your heads, U ye gates." Open
quickly, ye that liad rather liave God for your friend than
for your enemy. Uh, why should not tiic soul of every
sinner cry out, Lord, the door is locked, and thou liast tho
key ; I have been trying what 1 can do, Ijut tlu; wards are so
rusty tliat I cannot [wssibly turn the key. But, Lord,
82 HEAVEX CrOX KARTH ; ORj
lliro'.v the door oft the liiiiges, anything in the world, so
thou wilt but come in and dwell here. Come, 0 mighty
God, break through doors of iron, and bars of brass, and
make way for thyself by thy love and power. Come, Lord,
and make thyself welcome ; all that I have is at thy service :
Oh lit my soul to entertain thee ! But where is the sinner
that is in this note? How seldom do poor creatures desire
God's company, or bewail his absence ! Where almost are
the men and women to be found, that do in good earncbt
long to be acquainted with God ? Men are naturally
strangers to God, and it is a wonderful difHcult thing to
persuade men to enter into so much as a serious deliberate
consideration of these things. Though it be so infinitely for
their intei-est ; though the God that made them, out of pity
to their souls, desire it; though he send his ambassadors in
his name to beseech them to be reconciled unto God, against
wh.om they have l^ecn in open arms; though in infinite
mercy he persuade them to lay down their Aveapons, and pro-
mise them free and general pardon, and to receive tliem into
favour, and to forget and forgive ; y(?t wlicre is the sinner
almost to be found that with any thankfulness doth close
with these tenders? Now it being a business of such infi-
nite coiiccrnment, audit being the very Avork and business
of a minister of Christ to bring God and man into union, to
get man acquainted with God, I shall, in the next i^lace, labour
to enforce this exhortation upon the hearts of sinners, and
do what I possibly can to prevail with them that are as yet
strangers, to get acquainted with God, that they may have
peace, and that thereby good might come unto them.
EXHORTATION.
Once more, poor sinnei-, that God who can in a moment
stop thy breath and scud thee into hell, doth offer to be
friends with thee. If thou wilt come upon his invitation,
well and good, thou art a happy man for ever ; if not, thou
wilt rue the day that ever thou wert born : yet, through
mercy, tlie m.atter is not gone so far, but that thou mayest, if
thou wilt now at last in good earnest hinnlile thyself to him,
be received into favour. Behold, a pardon, mercy and grace.
JESU'o TUE Bi:riT FIUE.M) OF MAX. f^3
Ftaiul astonislied, 0 yc heavens, at tlu's infinite condescen-
sion ! Wonder, 0 ye angels, and pry into tliis kindness !
Was there ever such condescension, love, and goodness heard
of 1 If thou didst l)ut understand, 0 stupid sinner, what an
offer is made to thee, thou couklst not l)ut adore that good-
ness that can pardon and forget such offences, and receive
such a creature into favour ; thou wouhlst also cry out -witli
as great admiration as ho did, What manner of love ! you
would think it a mercy not paralleled, a kindness never to be
forgotten, a proposal by no means to be refused. Now that
I may, if possible, jivevail with some that are yet afar off, to
come near, I shall enforce this exhortation with many power-
ful motives, the least of which (were men but well in their
wits as to si)uitual matters, Avere the world not to a wonder
fools, in the grciit affairs of their souls and eternity) might
easily prevail. Oh that I might prevail ! Oh that some might
be pci-suaded ! Oh that God would put life and power into
these words, that they might prove effectual to the intended
ends ! Oh that some rebellious sinner might be made to close
with the most advantageous offers that ever were, or could be
made to creatures in our condition !
MOTIVES.
The first head of motives that I shall insist upon to enforce
this exhortation, shall be taken from the nature of the Per-
Bon that I would have you ac([iuunted with. Consider well
what kind of Fiiend you are like to have of him ; and if, after
you have avcU weighed what I shall (with God's leave) say,
you can fintl out any one in heaven or in earth that will be
a better friend to you, and stand you in more stead ; if in all
the world you bring one that deserves better at your hands,
and is more worthy of your choicest love and aci|uaintancc;
if I bid you to your loss, wliy then, let me bear the name of
a cheater for ever. And if after trial, through trial, and in-
timate acquaintance, you find yourself deceived, and that it
was not worth the? while to give yourself so nnich troul)le,
why then let nic Ik; branded to etrrnity, for the veriest liar
and impostor in the world. For my part, I envy not men
theii- hajipineks: but I wish, witli all my heart, that men
84 HEAVEN urON EARTU ; OR,
•would do that which may be most for their interest. It was
the counsel of Epictetus, none of the weakest men, though
a heathen : " Make choice of that which is really most ex-
cellent ; and if there be a friend to be found better than thy
God, the first thing thou dost, get an interest in him." But
consider whether there be not a contradiction in the terms.
Better than the best. It's perfect nonsense. I know it's im-
possible for any one that hath right apprehensions of God
to undervalue him. Wherefore it is a grand piece of religion,
! to have clear apprehensions of God ; such can't but believe
him to be infinitely lovely, ^vise, and powerful, and to be
obeyed in all things; and all the reason in the world to
acquiesce in his v/ill, who is so good and so wise ; such will
jilace happiness in nothing below liis favour. Wherefore
I think Plutarch was not mistaken, who affirmed that
"'man's life was given him of God, only to get the knowledge
of God." But I shall be a little more particular iu speaking
to the excellent qualifications of Him whom I would fain
get every poor sinner acquainted with.
First, He is the most loving and kind Friend. Poor igno-
rant creatiu"es that are strangers to him, talk at a mad rate
concerning liim ; those that know him not will be speak-
ing bad and thinking worse of him ; but, oh, did they Ijut
know what God is to thein that are acquainted Avith him ;
had they but conversed with him themselves ; did they but
see what entertainment he gives ; had they but been in his
company, and experienced what some have experienced ; had
they but lieheld how affectionately he embraces them who
come to him ; they would quickly say that it was a false re-
port, and wicked scandal, that the devil and the world,
which know not God, had raised of him; they would soon
cry out, that they would not for a world but that they had
been at his house, and that they have cause to bless God for
the day that ever they knew such and such who brought
them a-cquainted with such a Friend ; they will never, while
they live, for the future, believe anything that is spoken
against God or Christ, let who will speak it. Is this the
God they had such hard thoughts of ? Is this the kind-
ness that they did so slight? Is this the Friend that they
JESUS THE BEST FRIEND OP MAN. 85
were so loath to come to 1 And thus ingenuous souls will
even be ashamed that they should ever harbour such low
thoughts of Ilim whom now to their comfort they have found
beyond apprehension kind. Believe it, sirs, you cannot con-
ceive what a Friend you shall have of God, would you but
be persuaded to enter into covenant with him, to be his,
wholly his. I tell you, many that sometimes thought and did
as you do now, that is, set light by Christ and hate God, and
see no loveliness in him, are now quite of another mind ; they
would not for ten thousand worlds quit their interest in
him. Oh, who dare say that he is a hard Master ? Who
that knows him will say that he is an unkind Friend ? Oil,
what do poor creatures all, that they do entertain such harsh
sour thoughts of God ? What, do they think that there is
nothing in that scripture, Ps. xxxi. 19, "Oh, how great is thy
goodness which thou hast laid up for them that fear thee !"
Doth the Psalmist speak too largely ? Doth he say more
than he and others could prove? Ask him, and he will tell
you in ver. 21, that he blesseth God. These were things he
could speak to, from his own personal experience ; and many
thousands as well as he, to whom the Lord had showed his
marvellous kindness, and therefore he doth very passionately
plead with the people of God to love him, and more highly
to express their sense of his goodness, that tiie world might
be encouraged also to have good thoughts of him. What
nation under heaven can .say they have not tasted of his
goodness I "All the earth is full of the goodness of the Lord,"
Ps. xxxiii, 5. Read over Ps. cxlv., and let us hear then what
you have to say against God. Some indeed may speak of the
niiglit of God's terrible acts; some that have despised his
love have felt liis power and justice ; us f(jr these we cannot
think them competent judges in this case ; they will not, it
may be, commend God's goodness: yet even they cannot,
will not, condemn God of injustice, but exclaim against them-
selves fin* their unspeakalde folly in slighting his kindness
when it was tendered to them. But as f(jr otiiers, ask them,
and they will declare the goodness of God, they will abun-
dantly utter the memory of his great goochiess, and sing of
his righteousness. Do but try, poor sinners, do but try ; come
86 HEAVEN UPOX EAUTU ; OR,
a little nearer, and believe your own experience ; and if, after
a thorough knowledge of God, and a real acqijaintance with
him, you can say that his favour is not to 1:»e sought after,
his love not worth the desiring ; why, then, I have done, I
have no more to say. I am sure, if God were as the devil
ai'id the world represent him to be ; in so many thousands
of years, among so many thousands and millions that have
been accjuainted with him, and entertained by him, some of
them would have complained before this ; we should at one
time or other have heard something against him. Now I
challenge all the world to produce me but an experienced
solid saint, that when he acted like himself, and after he had
been in the company of God, and had been feasted by him,
could saj' that he kept a short house ; especially, could we
l)ut inquire of those that sit down at his table, and are
always in his presence ; vidiich of them all have a word to
say against liim ? But of that more hereafter. No, no, it is
in sinners themselves, there lies the fault ; they believe the
malicious lather of lies, they easily ciedit the inexperienced
ignorant \vorld : and how little reason you have to believe
so malicious enemies before the word of truth, I leave your-
selves to determine. Oh, why will you take up a standard
against yoiu- Creator so easily 1 Why will you receive such
gTeat things, wherein your eternal welfare is concerned, upon
trust 1 Do such search diligently, turn over the Bible, con-
sult the experiences of wiser men, and see whether things
be not as I tell you. And how doth the matter stand now,
poor heart? What, must the devil be believed before God?
What, is God a hard blaster still 1 Of all the creatures in
the world, some of you have little reason to say so. Hast
thou not been fed, clothed, and delivered a thousand times
by him? Who is it tha,t provided so richly for you? Who
filled your barns ? Who restored your health at such and
such a time, when the doctor gave you over? Was that one
of his unkindncsses ? Are these the things for which you
slif^ht him ? God himself makes a challenge in Jer. ii. 5-S :
" What iniquity have your fathers found in me, that they
are gone far from me, and have walked after vanity, and
become vain? Neither said they, Where is the God that brought
JESUS THE BEST TIIILXD OF MAX. 87
\is out of the land of E.i^ypt, and led us tlirout^li the wilder-
ness ; through a land of deserts and pits, through a land of
drought, and of the shadow of death, where no man dwelt ?
And I hrought you into a plentiful country, to eat the fruit
thereof, and the goodness thereof ; and yet you know not me,
saith the Lord." Was there ever such ingratitude heard of !
" Pass ye over the isles of Chittim, and send unto Kedar,
and consider diligently, and sec if there be such a thing.
Hath a nation changed their gods 1 but my people hath
changed their glory forthat Avhich doth not profit," ver. 10, 11.
And what sayest thou, 0 ungrateful Israel ? Have the
heathens more reason to cleave to their idols 1 Arc the
pagans more beholden to their stocks and stones than
thou art to the living Crod 1 And now, what hast tlnui
gut by all this? Ilast thou increased thy riches? Are
thy barns more full of corn? Are there ever the more
cattle in thy pastures? Are thy presses more full of
grapes? Art thou not now grown poor? Is not the heaven
become as jjrass, and the earth as iron? Do not tliy cattle
groan for want of food? Are not thy vines and fields grown
l)arrcn? Why, you may thank yourselves for all this; you
did not know when you were well. Return, therefore, 0
backsliding Israel, and thou shalt know the difference be-
tween my service and the service of devils, Jcr. iii. 12, &u\
Let me therefore again ]dead with thee, 0 God-despising
sinner. If for all this thou wilt not he persuaded, let nio
expostulate the case with thee, as God did with Israel.
Did not God bring thee into a world every way furnished
for thy use? Hath he not subjected the creatures of the
world to thee ? Who waters thy fields out of his treasuries ?
Who opens the clods of the earth, and sends thee out of his
storehouse provisions year by year? What would rpiiekly
Ijecoine of tlieo, if thou hadst not a fresli sui^ily from him
every year, nay. every moment? Oh, is this his unkindness
for which thouhatest him I And is it for this that thou hast
such .sour thoughts of him? And if all this were too little,
he would do greater things than these. I lath he not sent
liis Son out of his bosom? Dotli he not offer thee heaven
and glory? What canst thou in reason ask, that is good for
88 HEAVEN UPON EARTH ; OR,
tliee, that lie would deny tliee, if thou wouldst but be ac-
quainted with him ? And if this be an unkind Friend, I do
not know who is kind : if this be not love, I know not what
is. What could he have done more to express his love to
the world than he hath done ? Isa. xliv. Ask David what
he thinks of God ; he was well acquainted with him ; he dwelt
in his house, and by his good will would be never out of his
more immediate presence and company: inquire, I pray, what
he found amiss in him '? That you may know his mind
the better, he hath left it upon record in more than one or
two places, what a Friend he hath had of God. " The lines
are fallen to me in pleasant places ; yea, I have a goodly
heritage," Ps. xvi. 6. Why, what is that you boast of
so much, 0 David ? Have not others had kingdoms as well
as you ? No, that's not the thing ; a crown is one of the least
jewels in my cabinet: "The Lord is the portion of mine
inheritance, and of my cup," ver. 5. So in Ps. xxiii., quite
through. Nay, doth he not sometimes come out and beckon
to the poor, beggarly, starved Avorld, to come and eat their
fill of the same dish ? " 0 taste and see that the Lord is good,"
Ps. xxxiv. 8. If you will give any credit to his word, he
will tell you, " No friend like to God." " Whom have I in
heaven but thee 1 and there is none upon earth that I de-
sire besides thee. My flesh and my heart fiiileth : but God
is the strength of my heart, and my portion for ever. For,
lo, they that are far from thee shall perish : thou hast de-
stroyed all them that go a-whoring from thee. But it is
good for me to draw near to God," Ps. Ixxiii. 25-28. Let
others think or do as they please, as for him, he values the
light of God's countenance above corn and wine and oil,
Ps. iv. 6, 7. And what sayest thou now, poor creature?
Art thou still of the same mind ? Wilt thou kave God for
thy God and friend, or no ? Is he good and kind, or not ? Is
his favour worth the desiring and seeking after? " Under-
stand, oh ye brutish among the people ; and ye fools, when
will ye be wise ?" Ps xciv. 8. If God himself may not be be-
lieved, if David his servant may not be credited, hear what
one of your brethren — a heathen, I mean — saith in this case.
I shall translate his words into English. They arc as fol'
JEStrS THE BEST FRlEKD OF MAN. 89
lows : — " The goodness and providence of God to man is so
great, that if he were well in his wits, lie would do nothing
publicly or ]>rivately but praise God and speak well of his
name." (Ar. Epic. 1. i. c. 16.) Doth it not become man, Avhile
he is ploughing, and digging, and eating, &c., to be singing,
'■' Great is that God who hath given us land to till, instru-
ments to work with ! Great is that God who hath given us
hands and feet, and other members ; above all, that he hath
given us an understanding soul!" And seeing most men
are blind in these things, is it not fit that some that are
more wise and able should publicly praise God for all these
things? And now I am a lame old man, but partaker of
reason, God is to be praised by me ; this is my Avork, and
this I will do, and I will not leave this station as long as I
live ; and I wish that all the world would join with me in
singing a song of thankfulness to tliis good God. Hear
what a testimony he gives of the goodness of God ! Hark
how he invites you to join in that sweet consort of singing
praises to yom- Maker ! Hark at what a rate he talks, that
never read a Bible, or heard of a Christ, or knew what this
acquaintance with God that I am speaking of meant; how
bravely doth he set out the goodness of God ! What say
you ? Will you yet be persuaded to think well of God ? Me-
thiiiks I am loath to see my good ]\Iaster thus slighted and
undervalued. ^Icthinks it grieves me to see thee too, so
foolishly to refuse such an offer. I shall conclude what I
have to say ui>on this head, with another nohil)le expression
of the same divine and God-admiring Stoic. (Idem. c. G.)
" If men would study the nature of things, and had but
grateful minds, they might see cause sutUcient to praise
God from every creature in the world." It is not therefore
Itecausc God hath no goodness or beauty in him, that men
do not more earnestly desire acquaintance with him ; but
because their eyes are shut, or tliey look ujion him through
a wrong jirospective. This is the first ([ualiiication of this
Friend, which may commend his acquaintance to you, that
he is the most loving and good Friend.
Secondli/, lie is a most comfortable Friend. It is a vulgar
and yet u dangerous error, which the devil would faiii keep
90 ht:avf.N' r^^>^- earth; or,
lip the credit of, that a reb'gious life is a sad, melancholy,
pensive life ; and that, upon our acquaintance ^\'ith G<jd, we
must bid an everlasting farewell to joy, pleasure, and com-
forts. And is it true that a Christian's life is so uncom-
fortable a life? What, then, doth David mean to take his
harp so oft in his hand? What makes him so frequently to
warble out those melodious notes ? How seldom is his viol
out of tune ? Why is he so oft singing and rejoicing ? Read
the last Psalms at your leisure, and then tell me whether
that be the language of a sad, mournful, melancholy man.
Do you never hear him speak of God, liis exceeding joy ?
Doth he not tell God plainly sometimes, that he can scarce
relish anything but that which comes from his table?
Nothing else can comfort him. Hence it is, in Psal.
cxix. 70, 77, that he puts up this earnest request to God :
" Let, I pray thee, thy merciful kindness be for my comfort."
As for his part he could take comfort in nothing below that,
and that was it that the Lord had graciously promised to
feed his servant with, as long as he lived ; whereupon he
ui-ges God with his jn'omise, " According to thy word unto
thy servant." And that none might think this to be only
God's common kindness that he means, he adds, " Let thy
tender mercies come unto me, that I may live." God's
common mercies would not serve his tuni, that was a dish
that the world fed upon as well as he ; if he might not have
these sweet dainties, peculiar, spiritual, fatherly mercies, he
could not live, he should even pine away for hunger.
Wherefore he saith, a little after, that his soul did even faint
for God's salvation. And the soul that hath not a full meal
here ; oh, how is it raised ! How doth it cry. Roast meat !
" The King hath brought me into his chamljers," Cant. i. 4.
And what had you there ? Nay, that 's more than the soul can
express ; only this she can say, " The taste of that mercy she
hopes to keep in her mouth for ever ; she shall remember
liis love more than wine." Nay, so comfortaljle a Friend
is God, that those who have an interest in liim can rejoice
in such times, when others would be weeping and wringing
their hands. God's company is so refreshing, that it turns
a prisou into a palace j it hrlugs joy and pleasure into Sk
JESUS THE BES? miEXD OF MAN'. 91
ilungeon. Stand fortli, 0 ye suffering saints, and speak your
expei-iences ! Tlie world objects to your state as a sad state,
and they think you liave good reason to accuse God, and i£
any have anything to say against the comfortableness of a
religious life and this Friend, it is you. Well then, will you
promise, 0 sinners, to stand to the judgment of the gi-eatcst
suli'erers ? We will inquire of them that have been sawn
a.sunder, tormented, roasted for God's sake. Look into that
little " Book of j\[artyr.s," and you shall find as uncomfort-
able as their state Mas, yet they would not accept of deliver-
ance ; none of them all that would open his mouth against
this Friend for all this. What say you, 0 Paul and Silas,
now your backs are raw, and your feet arc in the stocks I
Tlieir singing speaks significantly enough for them that
they were not over-sad ; and they are so busy in crying
Hallelujahs, that they can't attend to give an answer to so
sorry a question. What say the martyrs out of the tlames ?
Doth not their love burn as hot then as ever? Did ever
any of them, from Abel to the least that sufi'cred in Christ's
cause, say that God was an uncomfortable Friend '] Do not
all the children of wisdom, from first to last, justify wisdom,
and say, that " Iier ways are ways of pleasantness, and all
her i^aths peace ? " Of those that have God for their Friend,
and know it, bring me any of them all that complains of
God. How doth he come and cheer them up when all the
World is against them! John xvi. 3:5. What made that
holy man in Ps. xxiii. say, " Though I walk through the val-
ley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil?" AVhat not
fear then ? Why, what friend is it that keeps up yoiu- spirits,
that bears you company in that black and dismal region ? lie
will soon tell you God wus with him, and in those slij)pcry
ways he leaned upon his staff, and these were the cordials
thiit kept his heart from fainting. I challenge all tlie gal-
lants in the world, out of all their merry jovial club.s, to find
such a company of mei-rj" cheerful creatures as the friends
of God are. It is not the company of God, l)ut the want of
it, that makes sad. Alas, you know not what their comlorts
be, an«l strangers intermeddle not with theirjoy. You think
tliey cuu't b« merry whcu their couateuauce ia so siuvo j but
9§ HEAVEN UPON EARTH; OR,
they are sure you can't be tnily merry when you smile with
a curse upon your souls. They know that he spoke that
sentence who could not l)e mistaken, " Even in laughter the
heart is sorrowful, and the end of that mirth is heaviness,"
Prov. xiv. 13. Then call your roaring, and your singing,
and laughter, mirth : hut the Spirit of God calls it madness,
Eccl. ii. 2. When a carnal man's heart is ready to die with-
in him, and, with Nabal, to become like a stone, how
cheerfully then can those look that have God for their
Friend ! Which of the valiant ones of the world can out-
face death, look joyfully into eternity ? Which of them can
hug a faggot, embrace the flames 1 This the saint can do,
and more too ; for he can look infinite Justice in the face
with a cheerful heart ; he can hear of hell with joy and
thankfulness ; he can think of the day of judgment with
great delight and comfort. I again challenge all the world
to produce one out of all their merry companies, one that
can do all this. Come, muster up all your jovial blades to-
gether ; call for your harps and viols ; add what you will to
make the concert complete; bring in your richest wines:
come, lay j^our heads together, and study what may still add
to your comfort. Well, is it done 1 Now, come away, sinner,
this night thy soul must appear before God. Well now,
what say you, man? What, doth your courage fail you?
Now call for your merry companions, and let them cheer
thy heart. Now call for a cup, a whore ; never be daunted,
man. Shall one of thy courage quail, that could make a
mock at the threatenings of the almighty God? What, so
boon and jolly but now, and now down in the mouth!
Here 's a sudden change indeed ! Where are thy merry
companions, I say again ? AH fled ? Where are thy darling
pleasures 1 Have all forsaken thee ? Why shouldst thou
be dejected; there's a poor man in rags that's smiling?
What, art thou quite bereft of all comfort ? What 's the
matter, man ? What 's the matter ? There 's a question
with all my heart, to ask a man that must appear befoi*e
God to-morrow morning. Well then, it seems your heart
misgives you. What then did you mean to talk of joys and
jjleasuves 1 Are they all come to tliis ? Why, there stands
JESUS TUE BEST FIUEND OF 3IAX. 93
one tli<at now hath his heart as full of comfort as ever it can
hold ; and the very thoughts of eternity, which do so daunt
your soul, raise his. And Avould you know the reason 1 He
knows he is goingto his Friend ; nay, his Friend bears him com-
pany through that dirty lane. Behold how good and how
pleasant a thing it is for God and the soul to dwell together
in unity ! This 'tis to have God for a Friend. "Oh, blessed is
the soul that is in such a case ; yea, blessed is the soul whose
Ood is the Lord," Ps. cxliv. 15. Nay, David when he seemed
to be somewhat out of tune, leaves this upon record as un-
doubted truth : " Truly God is good to Israel, even to such
as are of a clean heart," Ps. Ixxiii. 1. Let the devil and
his instruments say what tliey will to the contrary, I will
never lielieve them ; I have said it before, and I see no reason
.to reverse my sentence; "Truly God is good." Though
sometimes he may hide his face for a Avhile, yet he doth that
in faithfulness andlove; there is kindness in his very scourges,
and love bound up in his rods; he is good to Israel: do but
mark it first or last: "The true Israelite in whom there is
no guile shall l)e refreshed liy this Saviour." The Israelite
that wrestles with tears with God, and values his love above
the whole world, that will not be put oft" without his Father's
blessing, shall have it with a witness : "He shall reap in joy,
tlioiigli he may at present sow in tears. Even to such as are
of a clean heart." The false-hearted hypocrite, indeed, that
gives God only his tongue and lip, cap and knee, but reserves
his heart and love for sin and the world, that luith much
of compliment, but nothing of affection anil reality; why, let
such a one never expect, while in such a state, to taste those
reviving comforts that I have been treating of; while he
drives siicli a trade, he must nut expect much of God's com-
pany ; but of that hereafter. What a charge doth God give
to his ministers to keep up the spirits of his jieople: "Com-
fort ye, comfort ye, my people," saitli their God ; "speak yo
cumfortaldy to Jerusiilem." It's a gross mistake to think
that Ood loves to see his peoi)le drooping ami hanging down
their heads; no, no, lie counts it his honour to have his
sen'ants cliecrful. Oh why tlien slionid any of the ])recii)U3
sons and daughters of Zion walk up and down, as if their
G
94 HEAVEN UPON EARTJi; OR,
J'riend's company were not sufTicicnt to solace them, even la
the loAvest state that a child of God can be conceived to he
in ! While you think God is honoured by you, you can't
imagine what wrong you do him. The world stands by and
looks upon you, the devil bids them look on still, and asks
them how they like such a dumpish life and the service ot
such a Master, all whose servants and friends lead such a
doleful life. Stay, hold there, Satan ! that's a lie, and a loud
one too ; there are and have been thousands of God's chil-
dren that have lived as it were in the suburbs of heaven,
while they have been upon earth; many thousands there
have been that have spent their days in true solid joy and
peace ; many that have gone from one heaven of comfort
liere, to another of glory and comfort in that other world.
As I said before, so I say again. It is not the company of God,
hut the want of it, makes him sad whom j'ou see so; besides,
let me tell you, tears and joy are no way inconsistent. It may
be, also, those tears, that sad countenance maybe for thy sake,
0 sinner. When he sees what comfort thou despisest, and
knows what a God, what a Friend thou refusest, he can't but
weep; it's no rarity for the people of God, in the midst of their
spiritual enjoyments, to pity poor foolish sinners, that slight
those things which they know to be so refreshing. Thus
David did when his heart Avas solaced with the love of
God ; when his soul was ready to be over-burdened, over-
powered with the abundant in-comes of God's kindness;
lie can't but with grief and pity think of their state, who
have nothing to live upon but husks, whilst he feeds thus
high. Oh let my soul be but acquainted with God ; let
me but taste more of those true comforts, drink of that
river of pleasures that is at his right hand, and then I could
spare these lower sensual pleasures ; then I could scarce envy
the most merry ranting blades their comforts ; I will not
say but then I should with sorrow think of their wants.
It was spoken by Galeacius Caraxiola, one that sometimes
had none of the least shares of worldly enjoyments, and
might have had more, could he have dispensed with the
absence of this Friend, could he but have been wiling to
have wanted those spiritual comforts : " Let liim perish that
JESUS THE BEST liElEXD Oi' IIAN. 05
values not one liour's communion ^vitll God, and tlie com-
forts of a divine life, above a.11 the pleasures and comforts
that tlie earth can afford." Give me such comforts, sucli a
Friend, whose smiles may refresh me upon a deathbed,
whose presence may revive me when nothing else can.
Naturalists tell us of a bird called Charadius, tliat, being
bruught into the room where any one lieth sick, if he look
upon the sick person with a fixed eye, he recovereth ; but if
he turn away his eyes, the person dies. It is true, I am
sure, of this Friend, in whuse favour is life, and in whose
frowns there is death. (Ar. Epic. 1. xiii. c. 24.) " Can you
help mo to such a friend" (may all say with as good reason
Rs he) " that can keep me from all fears ?" Oh for such a
friend ! This is instead of all pleasures to me, to think that
God is my Father, and to know that I have loved and
obeyed him to the utmost of my power, not only in Avords,
but in deeds; this, this is the pleasure; here is a Friend in-
deed. Now, what do you say to all this ? Is God to be de-
sired ? Is his acquaintance to be sought after ? Can such a
Friend be too much valued ? The truth of it is, I would not
give a rush for any of your comforts which come not from
a sense of our interest in Christ, and which have not a solid
foundation, Scripture consolations. It is not he that smiles,
but he that can look up to God as his, and look into his soul,
and see things there in a good composure, and kept in a
cheerful subjection to his Maker and Redeemer: this, tliis
is the state, liere dwell joys and comforts that deserve such
a name. This lower region sometimes is stormy, Init al)ove
there is a constant calm. (Sen.) And is God still to be
sliglitcd ? Are liis favours, is his acquaintance little worth ?
I know you can't be an enemy to comfort and joys. AVhy,
lot me tell you, liere is the well of consolation, here is the
fountain, and all other joys which are drawn out of the
cisterns will erelong be dry. Come away, tlierefore, poor
Boul, and do not refuse such joys as all the carnal world
cannot parallel for their hearts. And this is the next mo-
tive, taken from the consideration of the nature of this
Friend, whom I would persuade you to get acquainted with.
• First, lie is a loving and kind Friend.
96 HEAVEN UPON EAllTII ; OR,
Secondly, lie is the most cheering', comforting Friend.
Thirdly, lie is the most able and powerful Friend. lie
hath all power in his hand ; and as long as he is but thy
Friend, whoever is thy foe, thou shalt never be ovei-powered,
never be crushed. Thou mayst challenge all the devils in
hell, and all his instruments upon earth to do their worst ;
God is on thy side; thou needst not fear. Thou art in
thyself a poor, weak creature, easily conquered and broken
by a thousand enemies ; but if thou hast a God to fly to,
thou mayst sing as well as those did, Isa. xxvi. 1, "We
have a strong city ; salvation will God appoint for walls and
bulwarks." No wonder, then, if every wise man think it
abundantly worth his while to secure this great privilege
to himself, that God may be his Friend. This is his best
hold, his one thing necessary. " One thing have I desired
of the Lord, that will I seek after ; that I may dwell in the
house of God all the days of my life, to behold the beauty
of the Lord, and to inquire in his temple," Ps. xxvii. 4.
Sin, the world, and the devil, may tempt a sinner, but
they can never guard him from the power of tliis great and
almighty God.
And now, you that are contented to live as without God
in the world, let me request you to consider:
Canst thou spread out the heavens as a curtain, or cover
the sun with darkness ? Canst thou call to the lightnings ?
and will they answer thee, and say. Here we are ? Shouldst
thou speak to that hastychampion, and command him to
stand still one quarter of an hoiu-, would he obey thee? If
these things be too much, why dost thou boast ? thou art
but a worm, Alas, poor sinner, when this great God ap-
pears in judgment, thou art not able to deal with a fly or a
frog.
Oh, then, is it not good prudence for all the sons of men
to come and agree quickly with this adversary, while he i3
in the v.'ay ? for whoever goes on in an enmity and rebellion
against this Lord of heaven and earth shall not prosper^
and be sure his sin shall find him out.
And this is another qualification of this Friend, whom I
would commend to your acquaintance : lie is an able Friend.
JESUS THE BEST FRIEND OP MAN. 97
1. He is the most kind and loving Friend.
2, He is the most comfortable Friend.
li. He is the most able and powei-fid Friend.
4. lie is the most active Friend. He commands his to
be diligent and industrious, always abounding in the work
of tlie Lord. Surely he will not be slow.
If the inanimate creatin-e, such as the sun, resolvetli as
a strong man to run his race ; how active, then, must the
Jlaker of that sun be ! If he command you not to deal with
a slack hand, surely he himself will not deal with a slack
liand. Should you behold this Friend of yours riding upon
the wings of the wind, and making the clouds his chariot,
Avould you not say, Oh, how swift, oh, how active is tlxis
glorious Friend of mine ! Tlie feet of this beloved One are as
lands' feet, for tlie good of his friends. Yea, his very eyes
run to and fro through the whole world ; for their good he
keeps constant watcli and ward about them, and he that
can injure any of his out of his sight shall go xmpunished,
Isa. xxvii. '.i.
The Lord speaks this under the metai>hor of a vineyard.
And ddtli this great Ilusliandman neglect his vineyard?
]->otli lie not ilig, manure, and stone it, and keep out the
wild boar and foxes ? Doth he not prune it, and tend it
c'liarily? I the Lord do keep it night and day; none shall
c-duie into it to gather the fruit of it without my leave. I
will water it every moment. So that you see what jjains
God takes for Ins. Do you believe this Friend sits in heaven,
and looks down njxm tlie earth for nothing? Be not de*-
ceived, 0 siruier, tliou wilt not Ijc persuaded to get recon-
ciliation witli tliis great and holy ]\Iaje.sty. "Tlie Lord is
not slack concerning his coming, as some account slackness."
Let his .stay be never .so long, when he comes to judge the
world, it will be before the sinner looks for him. Indeed
there is nothing that a wicked man more i)leasetli himself
with, tlian the thoughts that it will be a long time ])efore
Gotland lie meet; but he little considers that a thousand
years are but as one day compared to the days of etemity.
Now, by faith, these things are made real to the considerate
Christian; and as for the huiijjlying of his wants, he knows
98 HEAVEN UfOX EARTH; OR,
if he comes at midniglit to borrow bread of liim, lie will not
])iit you ofF witli this excuse, that he is a-bed, and cannot
rise from liis chiklren ; but will ju'esently helji, making their
necessity his own opportunity to give them what shall be
convenient for them ; as knowing, that, let the wind sit in
what corner it will, it shall lit theu* sails, and bring them
nearer the harbour.
The world's frieuds are infinitely below this Friend. One
hath chosen silver and gold, and a great estate, and such a
one in the world's calender may be written down for one of
the wisest in his choice. Well, let us see now what tliis
Friend can do for you. Your body is on the rack, your hands
are weak, your legs tremble, your stomach fails, your sleep
departs from you. Where is now your friend? Call for
him speedily. Come, let us now see if he be a friend indeed.
Let us see it. Can he give you one hour's sleep ? Can he
help you to one moment's rest 1 Can he give you no refresh-
ment, no help ? Take him ; lay hiui by you on your bed.
Oh, it is so heavy, I cannot endure it. Laj' it in your
bosom. Oh, I cannot breathe for it : take it away, take it
away; it will not do. Why, sir, do you know what you
say? It is your old friend, which you valued above
God himself; it is a bag of gold. I know it, I know it;
it presses me down ; it is so heavy, I cannot bear it ; away
with it, away with it. And is this the friend you prized
so very highly 1 Is this all the kindness that he hatli for
you now? Is this all the help he can give you at such
a time, when a friend should stand one in some stead ?
Were you not told as much long ago, how you should be
served at last ?
5. He is the most humble and condescending Friend. He
doth not scorn to be acquainted with the meanest: the
beggar may be as welcome to him as the prince : the poor
and rich are all one to him : he takes as much notice of Job
on the dunghill as David on the throne : he knows any of
his friends in rags as well as in silks ; in sheep-skins and
goat-skins as well as in scarlet and fine linen.
Look u]i, poor creature, and see wliat a privilege thou
hast. God liimsclf, the King of glory, is willing to be ac-
JESUS THE B-EST FRIEXC OP MAN. 99
quainteJ with tliee. What sayest thou to this ? Doth not
thy heart leap within tliee for joy, when you consider the
infinite goodness of God, tliat reveals these things to babes,
" which are liid from the wise and prudent : even so, Father,
for it hath seemed good in thy eyes." That is a strong ex-
pression ; yet lie spoke it that cannot lie. Tlierefore, 0 you
humble ones, that value the favour of this Friend, hear and
read it, and make the best of it : it is yours ; feed upon it :
it is a sweet bit indeed : " Thus saith the Lord, Heaven is
my throne, and earth is my footstool : where is the house
that 3'ou will build me ? and where is the place of my rest ?
For all those things hath mine hand made, and all tlioso
things have been, saitli the Lord:. but to this man will I
look, even to him tluit is poor and of a contrite spirit, and
trerableth at my word," Isa. Ixvi. 1, 2. I shall have occasion
hereafter a little to open these words xmder another head ;
wherefore I sliall now but name it. Oh, what encourage-
ment is here for the most despicable creature in the world,
tliat may be as happy in the acquaintance with God, as the
mightiest lord in tlie world. Here is One that will not be
ashamed to own thee, when others will take little notice of
thee. Tliou thinkcst these things strange, it may be, and
so they lie indeed ; but yet not more strange than true. It
doth not a little engage the affections of the meanest rank,
if a person of quality do but give them a kind look ; especi-
ally if they may have freedom of access to him. Oh wha,t
a jirivilege they count it, for such a one to undertake the
whole management of a poor man's affairs ; for him to come
to his liouse, and to look into his cupboard, and to take care
of siii)plying all his wants, and coming frci[uently to him,
unil supping with hiiii, ami being with liini, and to make great
provision for liim, as if he were a prince; where is such a
thing as tliis lieard of? Ent if such a tiling were, it were
a liglit matter in comparison of wjiat I am speaking of.
Wliere do we read of a great king's sending ambassador
after amba.ssador to a poor beggar? What liistoiy doth
record such a story as this, that a gi'eat monarcli should
make earnest snit for many years together to a worth-
less slave, that he tau hang when lie will, that liatli not a
lllO HEAYEX rro\ EARTH; OR,
rag to her back, to make her his queen: this is rare indeed,
this is heyond precedent among men ; but yet it is that
wliich the great God doth not disdain to do ; nay, let me
tell thee, whosoever thou art, remaining in a state of nature,
that readest these lines, that at this very time God is doing
no less than all this comes to for thee ; and I, in the name
of mj^ great Master, do come to expostulate the case with
thee. That God that gave thee thy breath, and can take it
away as soon as he pleaseth ; that God that made heaven
and earth, to Avhom all the nations of the earth are but as
the drop of a bucket to the vast ocean, who holdeth the sea
in the hollow of his hands, who weigheth tl)e mountains in
scales, and the hills in a balance ; that God that hath no less
than a heaven to reward with, and a hell and everlasting
flames to punish A\ith ; He it is that doth by me beseech
thee to be reconciled unto him ; He it is that would be your
Friend, yoiu- Acquaintance. 0 unheard-of mercy ! 0 infinite
and unparalleled condescension ! I have often thought there
are two great astonishing Avonders in the world. The one
is God's infinite mercy and condescension to rebellious apos-
tatized man ; and the other is man's insensibility and in-
gratitude ; that there needs such a stir and so many
words to pt-rsuade him to close with tins wonder of kind-
ness, and that so very few should be prevailed with. See
this set forth to the life in Ezek. xvi. ; Isa. i. 2, 3. "The
Lord is high above all nations, and his glory above
the heavens. Who is like unto the Lord our God,
who dwelleth on higli, who humbleth himself to behold
the things that are in heaven and in the earth ! He
raiseth up the poor out of the dust, and liftetli the^
needy out of the dunghill, that he may sit with princes,"
&c. Ps. cxiii. 4-8. The Psalmist, therefore, had no small
reason to cry out Avith admii-ation, "What is man, that
thou art mindful of him? and the son of man, that thou
visitest him V Ps. viii.-4. " What is man, that thou takest
knowledge of him 1 or the son of man, that thou makest
account of him?" Ps. cxliv. 3. "What is man, that thou
shonldst magnify him ? and that thou shouldst set thy heart
upon him ? and that thou shouldst visit hini every niorningy
JESCS THE LEST FKIEX]; OF JIAX. lOl
and try him every nioineutf' Job vii. 17, 18. Behold his
majesty, and yet how he stoops! Kahum i. ; Ps. xviii. ; Job
xxxvii. xxxviii. xxxix. ; Isa. xl, "Tliougli the Lord l)e iiigli,
yet hatli he respect unto the lowly : but the proud he know-
cth afar off"," Ps. cxxxviii. C. That which Seneca the
jnoralist sj)eaks of wisdom may be said of God : (Epist. Ixi.)
*'It is lawful to come to him without rich attire and great
attendance. Come naked, and you shall be as kindly enter-
tained as if you did shine in cloth of gold, and were be-
sparkled with diamonds. lie will not give fi-eer access to
the rich than the poor, neither doth he value a strong health-
ful jierson ])ef(irc a sick and crazy one, a beautiful and well-
trinimcd gallant before a cankered, old, deformed creature."
Thus far Seneca and the Scriptures speak the same language.
Keither Jol)'s ])oils nor Lazavus's sores made Cod keep ever
tlie fartlicr off' from them. I knew one all of a cleave with
the small-i)ox, whom this Friend came to visit, and in that
condition, how many kisses had that sweet creature from
God! Oh, it WDuld do one's heart good to have such a
Friend! And this is the next qualification of this Friend,
which may commend him to thy acquaintance, be thou
ever so vile and sinful in tliy own eyes: Such as thyself ho
Jiath made welcome ; and upon his word, wilt thou but come
away speedily, thou shalt 1)e welcome too.
6. He is the most faithful Friend. Wlicre is the man
that can tax liim with the least unfaithfulness? Who is
the man tiiat can say that he ever forsook any of his in their
greatest exigency ? He liath been trusted more than once
with more than the world is worth a thousand times over;
and they who trusted him most never accused, never
thought their choicest jewels, their whole estate, could bo
left in safer hands ; his j.romise and liis performance have
kept tine ; he never failed his in the Icastjinnctilioor circuni-
f^tiuice of tinu!. Ask AJiraiiani, wlio was one of God's friends.
God tells him that liis seed shall inlu rit Canaan, and that
Ihey shall be strangers in a land that was not tlieirs, four
Inindred years; and did lie not, at tlieexiiiringof that tinu',
though it was at midnight almost, bring tlicm out of Egy]it'<
God keej)s his time with them to a minute. Ask Joshua
102 HEAVEN TTPON EARTH ; OR.
whether he did not live to see this promise made good?
Inquire of David, and he -will tell you again, that no Friend
is so trusty. The unfaithfulness is on man's side; there,
indeed, there, I say, is many an unhandsome thing done,
and yet for all God doth not (as you shall hear hereafter)
presently break with them. If they forget that they are
children, he will not forget that he is their Father, If God
should have done thus by them, many thousands of them
that arenowin glory liad been somewhere else. He promiseth
indeed great things imto his friend ; but does he not as he
saith, if not in the very thing, yet in that which is better ?
and who would account himself wronged, if one that promis-
ed him ten pounds in silver should in the stead of it give
him ten thousand pounds in gold and jewels 1 I believe such
a one would not be thought to be worse than his word, nor
the person to whom he made this promise count himself in-
jured. And this God doth frequently, did men but under-
stand the worth of what God pays them with. It may be God
doth not clothe them in silks and satins, (neither do I know
that he ever promised to do so,) but yet he clothes them
with the righteousness of Christ, and bestows those glorious
robes upon them, in which they look more trim and neat
than in cloths of gold ; he hath made him such a suit that
is the handsomer for the much wearing ; he may eat and
drink, sleep and work in it, and keep it on his back day and
night, and it shall not 1)e wrinkled ; it is the better for use.
He is a faithful Friend; and none that ever had to do with
him can say anything to the contrary. He never forgot any
business that any of his friends desired him to do for them ;
he never neglected it, or did it by halves. Where did any
of them come to him to reveal some secret loathsome dis-
tempev to him, that he reproached them with it ? To which
of them did he promise a heaven, and put them off with this
world? When this Pilot undertakes to steer their course,
their vessel shall never split upon the rock, run upon
the sands, or spring a leak, so as to sink in the seas. To be
sure. He will see them safe in their harbour. (Ar. Epist.
xxvii.) He was no Christian; yet I suppose none -will deny
but he spake*good divinity, v,ho said, " If a man will choose
JESUS THE BEST FRIEND OP MAN. 103
God for Ills Friend, he shall travel securely through a wilder-
ness that hath many Leasts of prey in it; he shall pass safely
through this world ; for he only is safe that hatli God for
his Guide." Doth he not speak a little like David himself,
Ps.xxxvii. 23, who never expected to come to glory, except he
were guided l)y his counsel? Now, if a poor heathen could
say thus, and see good reason to trust God, and admire his
faithfulness as he doth frequently; (and so doth Seneca,
justifying God's faithfulness in all his dealings with the best
men in all their sufterings, and the prosperity of the wicked;)
what then shall the heavenly Christian say, who hath ex-
perienced so much of God's faithfulness in answering his
prayers, infuliilling his promises, and supplying all his exi-
gences! David will tell you as much, and justify God in
his most severe dispensations towards him : " In very faith-
fulness hast thou aillicted me," Ps. cxix. T5. In our earthly
and bodily atfairs, we should never count that Physician
faithful thi).t v/ill not rather open a vein, or put liis patient to
exquisite torture, to save his life, than let him die easily.
We believe a father may whip his stubborn ciiild with more
love than let him alone. To prevent the axe or halter with
a rod, is no cruelty. " Faithful are the wounds of a friend,"
Prov. xxvii. 6". It was not for nothing that the Psalmist
stuck so close to God ; he had a little experience of the
unfaithfulness of other friends: "Ilis lovers and his friends
stood aloof from his sores, and his kinsmen stood afar off,"
Ps. xxxviii. 9, 11. May not a great many com])lain a&
well as Job, that their "brethren have dealt deceitfully as
a brook, and as the stream of brooks they pass away'<"
Job vi. LI. A friend may forget one, a brother may dis-
own one, father and mother may oast one oii', but lu;re's a
Friend that sticks closer than all. Nay, he is a better Friend
to his than they arc to themselves. When they loved them-
selves so little as to undo themselves, he hjved them so well
as to save then\ ; when tliey loved themselves so as to poison
themselves, he loved them so as to give them a powerful
antidote; when thoy, like children, would have the knife, he
takes it out of their hands, kst they should cut their fingers;
vhcn they are so careless as to tiurfeit themselves, he is so
104 HEAVEN UPON EARTH ; OK^
faithful as to keep tliem sliort. and diet them; and all this
I hope they that understand themselves will not call un-
kindness or infidelity. David had in his time some friends
that made no bones of hazarding their lives for him ; some
of them were -willing to quench his thirst, though with their
blood ; and yet, for all that, in all his life he never met with
so faithful a fiiend as his God. " 0 Lord of hosts, who is a
strong Lord like unto thee, or to thy faithfulness round about
thee ?" Ps. Ixxxix. 8. He had rather trust his God than any
of them all. God is a real true faithful Friend ; he tells us
things as they are ; he doth not speak more of things than
the nature of them doth require ; he doth not tell the best,
and hide the worst; he doth not speak all of heaven, and
notliing of suffering ; but saith plainly, all that will live
godly in Christ Jesus must suffer persecution. And Christ
saith, those that will be his disciples must take up their
cross and follow him ; and that through many tribulations
they must enter into the kingdom of heaven. He speaks
of sowing in tears as well as reaping in joy; of affliction as
well as glory. And when he speaks of the glory of another
world, he doth not too highly advance his excellency. When
he speaks of his wrath, or hell, or sin, he doth not make
them gi-eater evils tlian tliey be. The Lord is faithful in
all his dealings, and that they who love him know right
well. Whatsoever doth happen to the world doth hap-
pen justly and faithfully; and so, if thou wilt but well ob-
serve, thou shalt find. And what sayest thou after all
this? thou who hast tried many and many a friend, so
called, antl hast by sad experience first or last found them
all unfaithful, and art almost ready to say of all men, that
they are liars, and that truth and reality are rarities ; thou
thinkest there is scarce a man upon the earth to be trusted.
And wilt thou never be afraid of such a friend 1 Wilt thou
at last be wise, and be acquainted with a Friend that never
proved unfaithful ? Behold such a one that would be glad
with all his heart to entertain you, would you but forsake
your old treacherous acquaintance ! Here, here is one that
never fiiils, nor forsakes those that put their trust in him.
The heavens shall depart, and the hills be removed out of
JESUS THE BEST FCIEND OF MAX. 105
their places, but his faithfulness, his love shall never depart
from his ; and wilt thou not think such a Friend, after all
this, worth the having ? Come, come, never stand fi-etting
thy heart out with discontents; men will be men, that is,
unfiiithful, as long as the world lasts. Do you expect, as
long as sin reigns in men's souls, as long as Satan doth so
much act therein, that they should furget to be selfish, co-
vetous, deceitful ? But now God will always be like him-
Belf, a God faithful, true, holy, just ; and if any one in heaven
or in earth can condemn God justly of the least unfaithful-
ness, my mouth shall soon be stopped. In this thing I con-
fess myself to be of Antoninus's mind, who said, " If there
be a God, as there is most certainly, why, that God must
necessarily be most faithful, most wise, most good ; but if
there be no God, it is not worth the wliile to live in a
world in which there is nothing but sin, confusion, disorder,
and no hopes of a redress ; the excellence of oui* being, our
reason, would make our misery more exquisite, and our lives
less desirable." But, blessed be God, it is not come to that
pass, that we should need question the being of a God ; for
as one saith wisely, '' Thou hast far more reason to question
thy own being than God's." Now I say again, methinks he
that had been so oft i>erplcxod with many unfaitliful, un-
worthy carriages from them whom he called friends, should
1)6 at last persuaded to try what this one Friend would do
for him. Oh, what abundance of sorrow would it prevent,
if men would but trust God more, and men less ! This, this
is the Friend, sick and well, rich and pofir, living and dying,
always the same. Make sure of this Friend, and thou art
safe; thy all is then in safe and fiiithfiil hands.
7. He is a rich Friend: "The eaiih is the Lord's, and
the fulness thereof: the cattle upon a thousand hills is liis."
He it is that hath the absolute disposal of crowns and scep-
tres ; he it is that can easily raise all his favourites to a high
estate. If the world and all its glory can do his any good ; if
kingdoms and vast dominions can advantage them ; he can,
with bettor reason than Satan did to Christ, say, "All this is
mine, and if thou wilt love me and worship me, I will give
you as much of it as will do you good ;" and who would ac»
106 /lEAVEN CPON EAll'i'lI ; Oil,
count it a kindness to be given that which will do one hurt ?
But these are but toys and trifles in comparison of what God
hath to bestow upon his friends. Lift up thine eyes, and
behold those glittering stars ; look upon that stately canopy
that hangs over thy head. Why, all this is nothing almost
to the glory which shall be revealed ; there is far greater
disproportion between it and what we see and enjoy at the
best here below, than there is between the footstool and the
crown. Oh, could you but by faith draw the curtain and
see what is within ! Oh, did you but know what is behind
those hangings which you sec wrought so curiously, the
work of his fingers! Oh, that is the place, there is a
house indeed, there is a palace, couldst thou but by faith and
meditation take a view of it ; could you but make a voyage
into that far country, and see that city of God, and discourse
with the inhabitants of the New Jerusalem, what discove-
ries should you then have of the riches, state, and grandeur
of that Prince's court ; shouldst thou but see those treasuries
opened, and know the worth of God's jewels, thou wouldst
wonder -what men and women meant, that they should need
so much persuading to be acquainted with Him that had
such tilings to bestow ; you would judge him worse than
mad who should not joyfully embrace any overtures of this
nature ; in a word, they would reckon that person besotted
that should not, ^vith all possible gratitude, close with such
kind of proposals. Come along, therefore, with me, poor
soui, thou that art not worth a groat, and hast never a
friend that can or Avill give you anything to speak of;
come along Avitli ine, and take a short prospect of the
territories of this mighty Monarch; let us get up to Mount
Pisgah, and make a survey of that goodly land ; let us take
a turn or two in the courts of his palace ; consider well the
pleasantness of this seat, how rarely it is accommodated,
the richness of the furniture, the nobleness of the inhabitants,
the sweetness of that harmony that sounds night and day
in that temple, the inconceivable costliness, riches, glory,
and excellency of everything. Do but look a little about
thee. Are not thine eyes even dazzled at the sight 1 Do
you see what building that is, whose walls are jasper, and
JESUS THE BEST FRIEND OF JIAX. 107
the city is all of pure gold, like unto clear glass, and tlio
foundation of the walls of that city are garnished with ali^
manner of i)recious stones ? Rev. xxi., &c. And what think
you now? Where is the prince upon earth tliat ever was
master of such an estate 1 What arc his attendants 1 The
mciiuost of those that stand in his presence is no less than
a king; the least of his servants is more rich and glorious
tluui the mightiest potentate that ever trode upon earthly
mould, that was a stranger to God. This God doth not
grudge to give that which is more worth than a thousand
kingdoms to iiis darlings. I might tell also at what a rate
they live who are fed always at his table, and what dainty
dishes they feed upon ; I might speak of their clothing
and robes: all which speak the riches of that Lord who
maintains his servants so highly. Eut ■what am I doing 1
Can I grasp the heavens in my arms, or take up the sea in
the hollow of my hands? Can I measure the heaven of
heavens, or weigh the mountains in scales, or the hills in
a balance ? Could I do all and a thousand times more, yet I
could not give you account of the estate of Him who would
be your Friend, your Husband: at the best, I can but give
you a superficial gross relation of it ; and when I have said
all that I can speak, and all the men in the world, with
all their tongues, have spoken too ; nay, let angels with
tiieir heavenly rhetoric do what they can to set out the
glory of his kingdom ; I say, when all this is done, you
must remember ;ill falls short fif what it is, and that since
the beginning of the world men have not heard, neither can
it enter into the heart of man to conceive what God is worth,
what a Friend you may have of him, if you will but speedily
1)C arquninted with him. Ilis kingdom hath no l)ounds, and
his dominions reach farther than both the Indies. The
small love-tokens that he sends now and then to his be-
loved into a far conntry are of infinitely nmre value lliaii all
the lockets of diamonds and riciiest jiearls and jewels in the
world, Prov. viii. Behold how merrily llel)ecca looks upon
a sorry jewel or two presented by Elie/er from his master!
How soon is her heart conquered ! Antl why should wc not
be more taken with thiiij^js of far greater worth i What is
108 UEAYEN Ul'ON EAIITJI ; OK,
all this? As much fis nothing witli you! Methinks your
hearts should be all on a fire. Methinks you should quickly
say, Oh that I could hut see him ! Who will bring me ac-
quainted with him ? he shall have my heart, my dearest
love. Methinks, should I ask you the same question that
they did Rel)ecca, Wilt thou go along with me to such a
Friend I you should readily, without any further dispute,
say, Yea, with all my heart, and think long to be up and
going. Why then do you talk of a year, a month longer 2
Oh, what makes poor creatures stand waiting so long
for an answer ? Do you ever expect a better offer ? Do
you look to advance yourselves somewhere else ? Can you
look for a better, a richer match l Go then and search out
among all thy lovers which make suit to thee, which of
them can feed you with such costly viands, which of them
can clothe you in such royal apparel ! Which of them can
make you such a jointm-o? Consider wisely and speedily,
that I may turn to the right hand or the left. What sayest
thou ? Canst thou, amongst them all, better thyself 1 Is
there any one like Him 'I Is there any of the sons of the
mighty comparable to Ilim '] Are any of the kings or great
ones of the earth able to make you such an offer ? or should
they, can any of them make it good 1 What, have you yet
resolved upon the point or not ? What is it you stand for I
I pray, do you question the truth of what I speak ? Do you
make account I speak of the highest, and make the best of
all things 1 Why, then, let me tell you further, I have not,
I cannot tell you the half of what you will find to be true,
if you would come to be thoroughly resolved, or of what
yon will believe hereafter, to your sorrow, if you still I'cfuse
him. And I must further add to what I have said before,
that whatever riches God possesses, he will jointiu'e you in, as
soon as you shall in good earnest be willing to accept him
for your Friend ; all that I can speak of, and more too, you
may call your own. Ask, and it shall l)e given M^ithout
prescribing how much more than you can ask or think shall
be given you. Your Lord and Husltaud is not so niggardly
as Ahasucrus, who said, '" What is thy request, and what is
thy petition, Queen Fsther, and it shall be given tliec, to
JEStrS THE BEST PRtEJfD OP MAN, lOO
the half of my kingdom?" But God saith, What is thj'
request, and what is thy petition, poor soul, and it shall be
granted, to the whole of my kingdom ? "What is it thou
wautest 1 what attendants dost thou lack to wait upon thee
to my court ? Are they prophets, apostles, mini.':ters, an-
gels, they shall he given! Eph. iv. 11. Do but try him;
he bids you ask, and you shall have. Let me give you this
one memento. Ask like one that hath to do with a rich
king, who hates to do anything below himself. Remember
it is he that delights to give like a God ; widen, therefore,
thy desires as large as heaven ; be bold, and speak a great
word, and I warrant thee thou shalt not be denied. Tell God,
that seeing, in his infinite goodness and condescension, lie
has been pleased to give thee leave to ask without restraint,
thou dost humbly request his Son for thy Lord and Husband,
himself fur thy Father, God, and Friend, his kingilom for
thy dowry, the righteousness of his Son for thy orna-
ment, clothing, and beauty, the comforts of his Spirit, and
abundance of his grace to bear thy charges handsomely,
till thou comest to his liouse. This is high indeed ! but
thy gi-eat and noble Lord loves dearly to hear such co-
vetous petitioners, who will be put off with nothing
but such great things. When do any of these go sad
from his court ? When do any of the seed of Jacob seek
his face in vain? This, this is the generation of thriv-
ing ones, who seek for life, immortality, and glory; who
seek thy face, 0 God of Jacob. And now what do you say ?
Will you believe all this ? Dare you take my word ? I am
persuaded none of you all think I dare tell you a lie, and do
you any wrong; but for all that, I dojidt desire you .should
take my word, nor the word of any man living in a thing
that concerns eternity; but take His word who cannot lie.
" Riches and honour are with me; yea, durable riches .and
righteousness. ]\Iy fruit is better than gold, yea, than
fine gold ; and my revenue than choice silver," Prov. viii.
IH, 19. The wise man tells us, that "wealth makes
many friends," chap. xix. 4 ; and that " many will entreat
the favour of the prince; and that every one is a friend
to him that gives gifts," vcr. ('>. If tliia might he in spiri-
II
110 n^AVEN UPON EARTH ; oil,
tuals, I should not fear but that I shoukl prevail with all
luy hearers to seek tlie frieudsliip of God; if their real in-
terest did weigh with them, if true riches and wealth could
win their atiections, if the most substantial good things
might signify anything, if solid reasons might bias them,
I should not fear going away without them. But alas, alas,
how little power have all these things with the sensual
world ! What are men and women turned to ! What sots
and brutes are they in the concerns of their souls and the
affairs of that other world ! Men run up and down hunting
after good things, and have taken a false scent ; they hope
to catch that at last which they will feed upon, and satisfy
themselves with. I tell thee, 0 man who askest, Who will
show us any good? here, here it is. lliches thou meanest?
Well then, let it be so ; and if I do not prove that what I
offer thee from my great Master is a thousand times more
worth thy seeking than gold or silver, and better coin than
that which bore Ca?sar's stamp upon it, tlien say you were
cheated. Thou tellest over thy monies very fast, methinks ;
but are you sure all that is gold which doth so glitter? Is
all that current silver ? Will it go in another country ? Is
it not possible but that you may be mistaken? Here, here
is the gold that is tried ; it will go anywhere. Here is One
that will give you, will you but desire earnestly his acquain-
tance, such ti'casure that will not perish, such silver that
hath not tin, such gold that hath no dross, such true riches
that cannot be taken away from you. Ask that saint who
looks so merrily, who lives so bravely, how he got his estate,
and how he came to be so rich all of a sudden ; he will soon
tell you how, and where his treasure lies, and yet not fear
being robbed. He hath of late been acquainted with a
Friend that hath given him that which makes him esteem
himself more worth than if he were possessed of ten times
more than ever Alexander or Csesar was. A friend of Cyrus, in
Xenophon, being asked where his treasure was, which made
him think so highly of himself, his answer was, Where Cy-
rns his friend was. A Christian may with much better rea-
son and cheerfulness, if asked where his riches and estate
lies, answer, Where God his Friend is. Ask the f oarcst of
JESCS THE BEST FRIEND OP MAN. Ill
them that are acquainted -with GuJ, tlie weakest of all his
diilJrcu, what they will sell their portion for, and what you
shall give them to resign up all their interest in God, to
quit theu- claim to this inheritance. Would they not all be
of Paul's mind, and even scorn the motion, and count the
g\oTy of a thousand worlds but as dung and dross in compa,-
rison of the excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus
their Lord ? Pliil. iii. 8. Nay, hear what one says that was
far less acquainted with God than any of them whom I have
been speaking of, when he talks of such kind of bargain as
this. (Epict.) " Offer me a kingdom, and you offer me to
my loss." For, saitli tlic same author, in another place,
" A good man may look up to lieaven as the seat of his
Friend, and not four want." Inquire of David what portion
God gave liim, and he will soon answer you : A goodly
]>ortion indeed; and that he gave him no less than himself,
and that the lines are fallen to him in pleasant places, and
that he liath a goodly heritage, Ps. xvi. 5, 6. And therefore he
counts himself richer than if he had all his enemies in chains,
and their royalties at his disjiosal; he takes himself to be
a far happier man than if he were al)solute monarch of the
imiverse, and were to give laws to the inferior world; he
reckons himself now as well to pass and better too than
Adam, when he was sole landlord of the world. It was truly
spoken of somebody, I do not well remember who : " He that
hath rich friends must not look upon himself as poor." Oil
then that you would be indeed friends to yourselves, and
have respect to your own real interests ! And what, will
not this mighty and powerful argument, which weighs as
much as a thousand others, jirevail ? And do you still say,
■\Vliat ])rorit will there be in serving the Lonl, and what ad-
Vantage shall I get if I be acquainted with liim ? To what
account will it return? I again answer. To a veiy good ac-
count every way. Try but this trade with the wise mer-
chant, an<l you shall soon feid tlie benefit of it. " Conceive
to thyself mountains of gold and rocks of diamonds, and to
this a vast iinmeasurablo tract of ground, land of inheritance,
the most feitilo soil in the world, bringing in such a Imrden
evoy year tluit shall trouble the owner to reap it : imaaiuo
112 . HEAVEN tJPONEABTn; OR,
his pasture as gi-eat as his arable, and all clothed with thou-
sands of cattle, small and great, and none of tliem barren
neither; suppose his barns and storehouses could never be
emptied, and his presses should ])urst -out every year with
new wine." Again, " Let the merchant store his cellars ^y\ti\
the most pure oil, and furnish him with such rich spices as
the Queen of Sheba brought to Solomon ; sujrpose he were
in-ovided with all the exquisite rarities that tlie air, sea, or
earth can afltord, yet for all this he were a beggar, in compa-
rison of one that hath God for his Friend: such a one pos-
sesseth him that possesseth all things." (Bolton.) Well then,
be persuaded at last to be wise. I remember the moralist
(Sen. Epist. vi.) brings in one acting like a wise man, and a
good proficient in philosophy, who begins to be a friend to
himself. And this is that that I am pleading with yon for.
If I came to rob you all of hopes of happiness, and to bid you
give away all that you have or expect, and to turn mendicants ;
if I came to persuade you to espouse a beggarly interest, and
to match yourself so as that you should be sure to be undone,
I should not wonder if, after I had spoken much, I shoidd
prevail but little. But when it is sucli a cause tiiat I am
pleading, wlien it is for your own unspeakable advantage,
when it is riches, true riches that I would have you hjok
after, an estate tliat I would have you mind, which may
be had for the looking after, have I not cause to admire
what need a man should hav<^ to use so many words ? Had
you money to spare, and could J tell you of a brave purchase,
tliat you might have an exce'lent pennyworth, I am per-
suaded I should not be very Xinwelcome. Could I tell you
of a vast estate that you might have, upon the matter for
accejiting or looking after, 1 believe I need not spend ten
years in earnest ])egging and entreating you to look after
such a tiling. Sliould I oifer to In-ing you to tlie place and
person of wliom you might buy it, should I not soon have
your company? Should not your necessaries be quickly
made ready for such a journey? Would you not be up be-
times in the morning? Nay, would you not travel all
night, and think it no folly nor madness, both to lose some
rest, and to take some pains, so you might come to possess
JESUS TUE BEST FlllEND OF MAN. 113
what I speak of] Nay, were there but a possibility of ob-
taining it, at least a probabilitj', I persuade myself you
ivould not fail to look after it the very first thing you did,
I am ready to think you would neither spare for pains nor
costs, so that, after all, you might but make sure of enjoying
it. Why, what then is the matter, that I can do no more
in the business that I am about ? I am sure I biing you
tidings of a better bargain, a braver purehase, and surer
inheritance, and what need I then spend so much time in
arguing with you ? Good Lord ! what mean people 1 Are
they out of their wits, and quite beside themselves? What,
is a feather better than a crown, brass than gold ? Is a
glass to be i)referrcd before a diamond, finite enjoyments
before everlasting riches, darkness before light, the world
before God? Oh, how is man sunk below himself! What
hath sin made men and women? If this be not folly and
madness, what is ? Such may go for wise men in the world's
account that make such choices ; and it id possible a man in
bedlam may say his neigliliour that tore all his hair
from off his head is well in his wits. Oh that this should
1)0 tlie condition of the fur greater part of the world ! And
what meanest thou, 0 my soul, that thou art no more af-
fected to see such vast multitudes of brain-sick frantic sin-
ners, tliat make light of tlie tender of the gosi)el, that take
tliem for their enemies who would do their utmost to mako
tlic^n hai)i)y for over? I must profess I am even ashamed
of my own heart, tliat I do not mingle my words with teai-s ;
tliat I should speak for God and souls vvith so indiH'erent a
spirit. Well, now you have heard of a great matcli, by
whicli you may l)e made for ever; arc you, for all this, of
tlic f-ame mind you were 1 Well, tlu-n, comjilain not if you
be a beggar, llemenihcr liow you were olt'ered ; remcml)er
you might have been worth more tluin a world. Ob tliat
inconsiderate souls did Init know, and indeed know, what
an oliur this is! <Jh that they would not carelessly under-
value such a ]>rop()sal ! Oh, what shall I do ? How sliall I
persuade you? What arguments will prev.ail? 0 thou
great and mighty God, give men and women but a sjiiritual
uuderstanding of tliesc things, make them deeply a^jpre-
114 ' HEAVEN UPON EARTH; OR,
hensive of their excellency and reality, and then I should
soon have them with thankfulness complying with these
tenders which thou commandest me to make unto them.
Oh when shall it once he ! How long shall the devil and
an unbelieving heart undo so many millions ? How long
shall Satan triumph over souls, and cheat them thus miser-
ably of their all ] Oh pity, pity, dear Lord, the besotted
foolish world, and give me more compassion to souls, that I
may, with incomparaldy greater earnestness and tenderness,
plead thy cause with them, and resolve to give them no
rest, till I have persuaded some of them in good earnest to
look after the great and weighty affairs of eternity, and the
making sure of their Friend.
8. lie is a sympathizing Friend. It goes to his heart
(with reverence be it spoken) when any injuries are done to
any of his; when his friends are wronged, it touches him to
the quick. He is tender of them, as of the apple of his eye.
Again, " He that despiseth you despiseth me." Never was
tender-hearted mother more pitiful over her only child, than
God is to them who love him ; never was any friend so
much concerned for another as God for his. What else
mean those high expressions of pity in Isa. Ixiii. 9, " In all
their affliction he was afflicted, and the angel of his pre-
sence saved them : in his love and in his pity he redeemed
them ; and he bare them, and carried them all the days of
old ?" It was not once or twice tliat God did so by tliem ;
but in all their afflictions he was afflicted ; which was not
expressed in some cold formal words, such as these ; Alas,
poor creatures, they are quite undone, their enemies are
very barbarous : but he showed it in real demonstration, by
saving them by the angel of his presence. A verbal kind-
ness costs little and helps little. But suppose his friends
are carried captive, are they not quite out of the reach of
his help? No, his love, pity, and power will find them
out in a)iy place under heaven ; and if they be slaves, he
will redeem them, though he give kingdoms and nations
for their ivansom. In his love and in liis pity he redeemed
them ; and when, 1iy lianl usage, they are grown so weak
and feeble that they can scarce go or creep, why, he will
JESUS THE BEST FRIEND OP 5IAN. 115
carry thorn iu his iirins, and hear tliein. Ami thus he did
of old ; and his aft'octions are rather greater tlian lesser now
than they were then. The motlier can be weary of carrying
a, dirty screaming chikl ; she thinks it less trouljle to wliip
him, or to let him He till he hath cried himself weary; she
is loath to lug such a troublesome thing up and down all
the day long. But yet, such is the tenderness of this Father,
that he carries his all tlie day long, though they be so heavy,
60 unquiet, so dirty. But of that presently. How oft do
you read of strange pity in the book of the Judges, when
tliey had, by their own folly, more than once brought them-
selves into calamity; how do his bowels yearn over them;
and when any of his are groaning under any trials or temp-
tations, what sending and running is there! How many
cordials arc jn-epared for them ! What calling to this ser-
vant and that servant to attend them with all the care that
may be, and to comfort them in this state ! And in case
of abuse, how dotli he show his love to them ! If you
should ask Pharaoh, he would tell you that God's friends
are edgetools. Why else doth the Lord lay about him
with so much indignation, when they arc opi)resscd; nay,
for tlieir siikes he rebukes kings, saying, "Touch nut mine
anointed, and do my ])rophets no harm;" if they do, be it
at tiieir peril. How did he bear the aillictions of his people
Israel in Egypt ! Did he stand still as if he were uncon-
cerned ] Did he shut his eyes and not see ? Or did he stop
liis ears to their cries? No, no, he sees the sutierings of
liis in Egypt, and that l)oth enemies and friends too shall
know, the one to their comfort, and the other to their
cost, E.\od. iii. 7. How doth ho awaken for their help, and
gird on his sword-upou liis tliigli, and march out with fury!
How doth he clothe himself with vengeance as with a robe,
and brandish his glittering sword, and sheathe it in the liearts
of his and their enemies ! Wherefore is it that God hath
so many controversies with Edom, Ammoii, and Amalek ?
Why doth lie muster ujt his forces with violence against
Babylon? Wiiose (piarrel doth lie engage in ? What ujis
the ground of that war.' If you read overall the indict-
ments that are before this great Judge, you will lind (his a
116 HEAVEN tPON earth; OR,
common one, their hatred of his people ; and this, to be sure,
he will not put up with. And that which puts an accent
•upon all this, is the unworthy carriage of most of them to-
wards him all this while. But of that under the next head,
which is this.
9. lie is the most patient Friend, Never any one in the
world could have digested such affronts, borne such indigni-
ties, as God hath many a time, and even from the best of
those that he takes into this intimacy with himself. Had
it not been for this covenant of friendship, Judah and
Ephi'aim too had been soon unpeopled ; as for them, they
soon forgot their covenant, yet for all that, God remembers
his : though Ephraim forgot to be a child, yet God cannot for-
get to be a Father. Read that text, and wonder, Hos. xi. 7,
" And my people are bent to backsliding from me : though
they called them to the most High, none at all would exalt
him." Though they had many compassionate prophets that
called after them day and night, when they saw them turn-
ing their backs upon God, yet they were not minded. Who
now would conceive that God should ever think a thought
of kindness towards them more ? Yet hear what God saith,
" How shall I give thee up, Ephraim ? how shall I deliver
thee, Israel 1 how shall I make thee as Admali ? how shall
I set thee as Zeboim ? Mine heart is turned within me, my
rcpentings are kindled together. I will not execute the fierce-
ness of mine anger : I will not return to destroy Ephraim :
for I am God, and not man ; the Holy One in the midst of
thee : and I will not enter into the city," vcr. 8, 9. Well, now
tell me if ever there was such a compassionate, meek, pa-
tient Friend. Ephraim was up in open arms against his
JMaker ; he did rebel most unworthily against his good Lord
and Friend, to whom he was bound by infinite engagements.
Ephraim had quite cast oft' God, and he will have nothing
to do with him ; and Judah is not far inferior to his trea-
cherous brother; and what will God do ? One would think,
as I said before, he should ease himself quickly of such false
friends; one would think that, after such unfaithfulness, he
should for ever banish them his court ; one would soon con-
ceive that he should think of disinheriting sugh rebellious
JESUS THE BEST miEXD OF MAN. 117
cliildi'cn ; for this was not the first, second, nor tliird time
that they had served God thus. Who then could imagine that
he should ever trouble himself with them any more? Should
one not look every day when he should qu^te cast them oft'?
Why, God seems sometimes to threaten as much, and seems
ever and anon to act towards them as if he would never
look upon them more while the world stands. Go, saitii
God, to your idols, let them save you ! What do you come
to me for? You have refused to have me for your God.
Go, cry to your gods, and let them deliver you. Thus he
seems to turn away his face ; yet, for all that, see how soon
he forgets his displeasure. Ephraim is his child, his dear
child, and he cannot l)ut pity him ; and "how shall I give
thee up, 0 Ephraiin," &:c. How hardly is God brought so
much as to chastise his children ; he never corrects them
but when there is an absolute need of it. Ask the church
under the rod, and she cannot but say as much. " For
though he cause grief, yet will he have compassion accord-
ing to the multitude of his mercies. For he doth not afflict
willingly, nor grieve the children of men," Lam. iii. 32, 33.
lie calls judgment his work, his strange work: and when
lie doth correct his stubborn children, how doth he many
times give them a lash and a kiss, a frov.n and a smile ! Oh,
what would have become of the holiest men living, if God
should ujjon every provocation have broken with them. If
God should mark iniquities, oh, who should stand? Which
of the fallen sons of Adam hath not abused his high kind-
ness? and yet for all (hat, bow is his patience and goodness
exercised towards them ! Well might the Psalmist make
that the burden of one of his songs, " Oh that men would
jiraise the Lord for his goodness, and for his wonderful works
towards the children of men ;" and that of another, " For
his mercy cndurcth for ever." What created being could
have l)orne the thousandth jiart of tiiat from any hand that
God doth every day from his dearest children I What
peevishness and unfriendly (juarrelling, what murmuring
and re()iirmg, doth he bear evi'U tVi>m them for whom ho
hatii done .such great things I How strangely do they carry
theinselves ! How seldom and conii>limental in their visits
118 HEAVEX UPON earth; OR,
of liim ! IIow cold and formal in tlieir addresses to him !
How frequently are they conversing with his basest ene-
mies ! How much treachery and underhand dealing doth
he find in them ! Yet for all this, how great are his kind-
nesses, and how open are his arms, upon their acknowledg-
ment, to receive them again I Little do we think what un-
klndness the Lord overlooks ; nor indeed, except we knew
what it was to be infinite in holiness, could we in any Avay
conceive how infinite his patience is. " Many times did he
deliver them ; but they provoked him with their counsel,
and were brought low for their iniquity. Nevertheless he
regarded their affliction, Avhen he heard their cry : and he
remembered for them his covenant," &c., Ps. cvi. 43-45.
Here, here is patience, here is love and goodness with a
Avitness ! What prince under heaven would trust a reliel
that hath been in arms a hundred times against him, and
that at the best doth serve him with so little delight i
What friend would continue his familiarity and kindness
there, where he hath found abundance of falseness ? And
who but thou, 0 God, is so merciful and gracious, long-
suffering, and abundant in goodness and truth s As for the
trouble that any of his meet with, most commonly they
may thank themselves for it ; and it is always sent them in
kindness : there is none of them all but may say. This is
my iniquity, this is the fruit of my backsliding, this I have
got by my estrangement from God.
10. He is an honoura1)le Friend, and to be acquainted with
him is the highest honour in the world. This word honour
sounds great in the ear of this proud world. AVhat a running
and catching to get a little of it ! How do many undervalue
their lives, and make nothing to hazard their blood for a lit-
tle of what men call honour ! Some prize it above riches and
wealth, and care not almost at Avhat rate they purchase it ;
and yd in the meanwhile they are farthest from that \vhich
they so greedily ilesire, and ihcy run away from that which
they seem to pursue. Poor ignorant man is fearfully mis-
taken ; he calls that his honour which degrades him, and
takes that for his glory which is his sliame. How is lie
pleased with that AA'hich, when he hath, he neither aees nor
JESUS THE BEST FRIEXi) uF MA.V. 110
foels, ami scarce knows what it is ! (Epict.) What is it, 0
man, that thou losest thy sleep for? What is it that thou
art at so much charge to huy 1 that rather than you will
want it, estate, blood, life, and soul, and all must go for iti
Knight, lord, earl, &c., -worsliipful, right-worshipful, honour-
able, excellent, gracious, are big words, and make a great
noise; but is this the true honour? will these words, with-
out the thing, do a man so much good I a man, I said, and
so doth God say too, and death will make the biggest of them
all know as mucli ere it be long, for all those big words.
What if his l)reath stink that speaks these words, and his
that hears them be not much sweeter? (Antoninus.) Is it
such an honour to have a company of fools to call him wise,
that, may be, is like tlu^nselves? Is it worth a soul, to have
it said when I am in hell. There lived a bi-avc gentleman,
that kept a noble house and brave table ; his cellar was al-
ways open ; one might come when one would, and drink as
long as one could stand, and never hear, A\'hy do you so ?
and be always welcome ; tliat is, in plain English, where a
man might be encouraged to damn his soul. There lived a
noble gallant person who bid defiance to the Almighty, that
had courage enough to go to hell merrily, tliat had a de-
sire to carry as many along with him as might be ; damning,
swearing, cursmg was their language ; eating, drinking, sleep-
ing, whoring, and persecuting the people of God, their busi-
ness. And are these your honourable pei-sons? Nay, go
liigher, to bustle up and down in cloth of gold, with a vast
retinue, to have men on this side and that side, bowing and
cringing; and is tiiis such a business? Is it wurth tlie while
to keep up such a stir about that wliich a wise man may
want, and a fool have? (Anton.) Will tiio.se names, tliat
grandeur and state, tiiose high titles, render you more ac-
••eptable to God? Will they procure for you a freer access
into tiie ])rescnce of that great King? Will tliose great
words scare death ? Will he say, when lie conus to your
houso, Tills is a pei-son of ([iiality, I must not Ijc so bold as
to come near him i Will your lionour procure you a jirotec-
tion from t!ic arrests of this serg'jjint ? Wliere is tlie liouour-
ablc personage, the gentleman, kniglit, lord, king, or mon-
120 HEAVXJK UPON EAIITII ; OR,
arch, that hath lived a thousand years ? (Lucian.) Are the
worms afraid to gnaw thy heart ? Will thy flesh never put-
refy ? Will your servants, or your master either, honour
you in hell? And is this all that you keep such a stir
for, that can do you no good in the grave or in another
world 1 Can tliat ])e better worth than heaven, than God ?
Oh that we might hut know wliat it is, that great thing is,
which is preferred before Christ and everlasting glory I
Again, I ask what is it that the grandees of the world do so
much idolize? Is it to be called Avise, great, and noble?
But wliat if the wise God call such a one a fool? (Epict.)
What if he know neither himself, nor his God, nor his inter-
est ? Ilath he much greater reason to boast than a feather,
that somebody will sny it is heavy ? or dung, that the SAvine
saith it is sweet ? (Juven.) What profit is it for a man to be
made great for betraying his countiy, and flattering a tyrant
\\ho yesterday v/as the son of a stage-plaj'er, and to-morrow
shall be shorter by the head? What good will it do a
l^eggar that is ready to be starved, to be told that he is a
prince, a brave fellow, worth some thousands by the year?
But would you know which is the ready way to true lion-
our? I tell you it consists not in the favour of them that
must die like yourselves, and, l)cfore that few years be over,
must stand but upon even ground AAith the meanest ; it con-
sists not in the sorry acclamations of them who measure a
man's worth by his estate and their dependence upon him ;
it consists not in the praise of them Avhose commendations
some wise men have counted a discredit. But he hath
showed thee, 0 man, v>-hat is truly honourable ; to do justly,
to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy Gud, Micah vi.
8. To bear relation to God as a Father, and to carry them-
selves as his children, to be a servant and friend of God;
this, this is honourable, truly honourable ; this is the height,
the top of the creature's preferment. To converse Avith,
and delight in his Maker; to love, admire, and rejoice in
God, and to love God, to take complacency in the soul ; this
is something indeed, this is honour; a Avise man Avould not
grudge to venture his estate, his blood, his all for this.
And hoAV feAv of the gallants of the Avorld understand the
JESCS THE BEST FRIEND OP MAN. 1^1
natui'e of this honour ? IIow do most of them account that
wliich is the only true luidge of nobility, a term of disgrace;
and that which speaks a person liighly honourable, and to
have brave blood running in his veins, to be low, sordid, and
much honeath them; as if it were below a creature to serve
]iis j\Iaker, and a pitiful proferment to be advanced to
glor\\ Oh that men of parts and learning, that persons of
quality, should be so much mistaken ! Oh what 's become
of their reason ? Is it an honour, a preferment, for a man
to become a brute? We are ready to inty madmen, and
to laugh at fools ; but whether there be not more reason to
bemoan the condition of most of the honourable persons in
the world, I leave CIn-ist and Christians to judge. Well then,
will you be informed, after all this, by Ilim who hath all pre-
ferments and honours in his gift? I mean the great King;
and lie will tell you tliat glory and honour are in his pre-
sence, 1 Cliron. xvi. 27. iNIan's only honour and true dignity
lie in his nearness and acquaintance with God. A i)racti-
cal knowledge of his iNIaker is the creature's greatest prefer-
ment. David was of the mind, that it was none of tlie low-
est honours to be God's servant, Ps. Ixxxiv. It is upon the
account of Israel's near relation to God, that Moses reckons
them the liap]iiest, the most honourable people in the world.
Because Goil had avouclied them to l>e his jjcculiar ])eoi)le,
therefore they might well be said to be high above all tlio
nations which God had made, in praise, in name, and in
lionour, L)eut. xxvi. 18, li). And upon this account might
a wise man have liis dioice, whether he will wear a crown
and be a 8tra,nger to God, or rags, and be one cf his nearest
servants. He will not stand long. before he determine the
case; he will soon answer witli liiir., that he had rather
lie a doorkeeper in the house of God, than dwell in the ta-
bcniaeles of wickedness. If men's actions may speak their
judgments, most of the gallants of tlie world are of a far
din'erent opinion. But, oh let me dwell for ever in his house,
and stand always in his jiresence ; happy are they that see
his face, liiqijiy are they tliat behold his beauty. This, this
is man's crown, this is bis highest lioiioiir and dignity; for
Ood to be mindful of man, and for his Maker to visit liim ;
122 HEAVEN UPON EARTn ; OR,
this sets him l)ut little below the aiip,els, this crowiis him
with glory and honour, Ps. viii, 4, 5. This is that which puts
a true personal wtirth upon any one ; and therefore the
Psalmist thinks those the excellent persons, in ■whom is his
delight. Upon this account the Scripture saith, " The right-
eous man, who is in covenant with God, is more excellent
than his neighbour." The purblind world, they judge alto-
gether by the outward garb ; they see the face, the rich aj)-
parel ; they see the estate, but they see not that inward ex-
cellency and beauty that may be under but a mean habit ;
they are ready to despise the noble worthies of the world,
such as can look upon kingdoms as small things in compa-
rison of what they have an interest in, who can call God
Father, and Christ Brother. Have you never heard of a
king in mean apparel, of a prince without his robes upon
liis back, or his crown upon his head 1 and will you say that
therefore he was but a common person ? lint those hea-
venly creatures that have a more spiritual refined sense,
that understand something of things and persons, are quite
of another mind ; they can look upon great ones in the
midst of their gallantry, without a Friend in heaven, as mean
persons that have no interest to speak of; and many of them,
for all their greatness, to be in a far worse condition than
dogs and toads. They can also look upon a poor despised
Baint, a contemned Christian, though, to carnal eyes, he should
look as if he could scarce speak sense, to be a favourite of
Heaven, a person of quality ; such a one as this the heavenly-
minded values as the son of a king, a citizen of Zion, one of the
royal race, one of that glorious retinue that stand always in
the presence of God to serve him, the least of whom are
kings and priests to their great Lord : liy faith he sees their
crown, and looks upon that royal diadem wliich shall ere-
long be put upon their princely heads, Piev. i. 6. This
was the great preferment they sougjit, this was the honour
they most desired ; as for the world and all its glory, tliey
can well spare it for those thai shall never be advanced to
any higher dignity, to any better jireferment. As for the
saint, as contemptible as he looks, he hath higher designs,
nobler tilings, greater honours in his eye j and if that which
JESUS THK BEST FRir.XP OF MAX. 123
the world so admires were the highest glory that a rational
creature were cajiahle of, tlio toj) of man's ]>refernient, why,
then he could li>ok upon l)rutos themselves as liis equals, ex-
cept in this, that their pleasures are more certain, and their
miseries less understood.
It is storied of Constuntine and Valeutinian, two Roman
emperors, that they suhscribed themselves Vassellos Cliristi,
the vassals of Christ; and that Numa Pompilius esteemed
it a higher honour to he a friend of God than a lord of men.
Consider, poor sinner, consider wliat honours you slight,
what preferments you refuse, what dignity you undervalue,
wlien you make light of acquaintance with God. Had that
brave Stoic, Epictetus I mean, known God in Christ, he
would mucli more have wondered at the inconsiderateness
of them who make nothing of being related to God as a
J''atiier; he would much more have ])itie<l them who
cleave to their lower, meaner kindred beast, wlio had rather
be like swine than God, and rather be com])anions to their
servants than their Maker. Seems it to you but a liglit
matter to be a King's son ] Is it but a small matter, think
jou, to call God Father? Is it nothing to be born to a
crown immortal that fadeth not away? This is honour,
this is ])refermeut worth the having, worth the looking after,
worth tlie venturing one's life for. Tiiis is true nobility, to
stand tluis nearly related to Him before whom the angels
veil their glorious faces, and at whose feet the four-and-
twenty elders lay their crowjis. The Queen of Sheba
thought Solomon's servants happy, who stood always in his
jiresence and heard his Misdom ; but what would she have
Kiid, had slie but known the honour and glory of this
Prince! Oh, blessed are those that stand always in thy
j)resence! 0 God, blessed are thy servants; blessed are
those wlio see thy glory and hear tliy wisdom ; blessed
.are they that may have five access to thee. Oh let me
liave tliis jirefermcnt, though I live like Job at his lowest,
and die like La/.aius. Let others sue for the favour of
•princes; let them make the best of wliat the world can
give; let them desire that wliieli liuth been dangerous to
• more than Uiunanj I lio^.e I should never envy them,
124 HEAVEN UPON EAilTU ; OR,
might I but have more frequent and intimate converse with
God, may I be but acquainted with liim. Oh may I have
but a heart more to admire, love, and delight in him, and
serve him with tlie strength and intenseness of my soul
while I am here, and stand for ever in his presence, and be-
hold his glorious fiice with joy hereafter. 0 my soul, Avhat
meanest thou, that thou still speakest so faintly and coldly
of such infinitely glorious things 1 Why doth not a new
life animate thee at the very mention of these things ? Hast
thou not far more cause to raise up thy desponding spirits
with cheerfulness, than old Jacob, when his son Joseph, who
was lord of that land, sent for him into Egypt? Thy Fa-
ther, 0 my soul, thy Brother is Lord, not of Egypt, not of
Goshen, but of Eden, of Zion ; he is the King of that glori-
ous city, the new Jerusalem; heaven is liis 'throne, and
earth is his footstool, and yet behold the waggons that he
hath sent for thee ! Behold the provision that he hath sent
to maintain thee comfortably in tliy journey from Egypt to
Canaan ! Is not this enough ? 0 my soul, awake, up and
see him before thou diest. Behold, he is coming, the Bride-
groom is coming, Joseph is coming, to meet tliee with a
gallant train, in a glorious equipage. It is but yet a little
while, and thy Husband will come and fetch thee in royal
state, attended with a numberless retinue of saints and an-
gels. Oh, hadst thou but an eye to behold their chariots
and horsemen coming upon the mountains. He is coming,
he is coming; he will be here quickly; he will hot tarry;
he is at the door. Contemplate sometimes on these things,
and a little antedate that glory by spiritual meditation.
Do but think what a brave sight that will be to see the
mountains covered with chariots of lire and horses of fire,
when the heavens shall bow before thy Friend, and the
earth shall melt at his presence, and yet thy heart not faint
within thee ; when the King shall come in the clouds to
fetch his friends to his own house, where they shall dwell
for ever. This honour have all the saints.
11. He is a suitable Friend. It is suitableness that
sweetens society. I can easily believe a poor country pea-
sant can take as much content in the c^mi^any of a poor
JESCS THE BEST FRIEXD OF MAN. 125
man like hinibelf, as in the society of a prince ; an unlearned
cuuntryman is no way fit to converse with courtiers and
statesmen ; the vastuess of the distance would so much
swallow his mind, and the unsuitableness of his spirit to
such company takes off that content which otherwise he
might enjoy. But yet in spirituals, though the distance
between God and man be beyond a possibility of our con-
ception, and the disjjroportion infinite, yet the soul of man,
being immediately from God, and spiritual, like God, and
having a divine new nature infused into it by the spirit of
regeneration, it finds an infinite suitableness, pleasure, and
content in the enjoyment of God's presence; and it is not
sunk, but raised, by a union, converse, and society with its
Maker. The truth of it is, did man but understand his owix
original aright, he would think it infinitely below his noble
parentage to converse with, and have intimate delightful
society with any but God and those who bear the same re-
lation to God witli liimself, or. to bring poor strangers ac-
quauited with liim as well as themselves. There is not a
match upon earth fit for the soul of man to be matched to.
But in that other country there is a Match indeed every way
suitable ; a Spirit for a spirit ; an everlasting God for an ever-
lasting soul ; a precious Jesus for a precious soul ; a holy God
for those whom he hath made holy like himself; and that
is none of the least of man's happiness, tliat notwithstanding
that infinite distance that is naturally between him and his
God, yet that, God should make in his creature such noble
dispositions, and sucli divine qualifications, that there should
be the greatest suitableness in the worUl between God and
the soul, and the soul and God, and they both take wonder-
ful content in the enjoyment of one another. This is in
part here, but completed in glory. Tliis we may find often
in Scripture expressed in the nearest relations and dearest
affections. Hence God is said to bo a Father, and they liia
children; a Husband, and they his spouse. Now wbat
greater suitableness can tliere be tliau between father and
childron, husljand and wife I God is also said to delight ill
them, and they in him; to rejoice in their company, and
tlii')' ill llioj iUl'l how coul'l tills be, t\\w]^>i theie were i^
1-26 111;AVEX IPON EARTH ; OK,
suitableness in tliem one to another. Their wills are suited ;
what God wills, they will ; and what God loves, they love;
and so what they love, as his friends, God loves ; one doth not
' thwart and contradict the other. Oh how sweet then must
• the company, the communion, of such friends be 1 Oh were
,our hearts as they should be ! Were we more like God, we
should quickly experience, to the unspeakable joy of our
.souls, how suitable a Friend he is to a soul : we should soon
' iind, that as clay and stones are unsuitable food for the body,
so the Avorld is unsuitable food for the soul to feed on, and
that it is God alone that can fill and satisfy the vast desires
of it. Oh, I say again, were we but as we came out of our
Maker's hands, or, rather, were we trimmed up in our eldest
Brother's robes, and brought into the immediate presence
of this great King ; were we set before that glorious throne,
where the infinite brightness of his majesty shines, so that
the angels themselves veil their faces before him ; yet for
all tliat, we should not long stand silent, as if the place
aridrcoinpany were unsuitable to us ; it would not be long
•befofe' we should carry it as those that were nearly related,
and had intimate acquaintance with Him who sits upon the
throne. Oh the unspeakable sweetness that will be in the
enjoyment of His company I no tediousness, no irksomeness
at all upon our spu'its. We shall quickly understand our
work, our privilege. Oh infinite goodness! Oh boimdless
love ! Oh let me be always solacing my soul in the con-
templation of these things ! Oh let the very thoughts of
them be a heaven upon earth to my soul ! But here, oh
here's the grief; while we are here in a strange country,
there is something — (in all the poor fallen children of Adam,
nay, in those of them that are recovered, and by grace
brought into re-union with God) — there is, I say, something
in God unsuitable to them, and in them unsuitable to God;
and this, oh this makes our lives so uncomfortable: but
converse with God will wear oft" a gi-eat deal of that. When
thou comest to lay off thy rags, and to put off thy old suit, 3.5;
and to put on that new one that is making for thee, I mean .,'1
after death; when thou comest to glory, thou uilt find the.Q.^
ease strangely altered with thee. In heaven there will be
JESP8 THE BEST rRIEXD OP MAX. 127
a pci-fect harmony, suitableness, and agreement between
God and thee for ever; and thou wilt take infinite com-
placency and delight iu him, and he in thee. And thus
shalt thou spend eternity in iiicunceivable joy, delight, and
pleasures. This is heaven, a perfect suitableness to God,
and enjoying him for ever. Oh when, when, when shall it
once be ? " Come, Lord Jesus, come quickly ;" come, 0 blessed
Father, by thy Spirit, and burn up what is unlike thee !
Oh create a greater suitableness between my soul and thee.
Oh come thou down to me, or take me up to thee ! Oh,
could we but talk with one of those happy creatures that
hath been in the very presence of God in glory, and should
we ask him, whether he were not weaiy of the same work,
of the same company, the same place ; what answer do you
think he would make you ? "No more weary than a man
ui)on the rack but just before would be of perfect ease ; no
more than a healthful hungrj^ man is of eating; no more
weary than the sun is of running, than the fire of ascend-
ing, or a stone falling towards the centre. (Sen. Epist. x.)
I know not where I had rather he than with Him. I was
once upon earth as you are now, and now I am in heaven ;
and in neither <>i Ijoth these places can I find one that I can
t;ike more delight iu than God. I must say as he, Ps. Ixxiii.
25, 'Whom have I in heaven but thcel and there is none
upon earth that I desire besides thee.' I cannot desire a
better employment than a delightful constant attending
11] ion my God. Can I have bettor company than such a
Father I C'an a greater happiness be conceived than eternal
glory ? a pleasanter place than heaven ? That which I can
speak, you cannot hear; and could you, though in this per-
fect glorj', I cannot express what you will find and feel
when you come hither. Oh had I but known as much as I
do now, when I was in your condition upon earfh, I should
with incomi>arably greater earnestness have sought after
acipiaintancc with God than I did. ' In his presence is
fulness of joy, at his right hand are pleasures for evermore.'
Now I feel, now I know it. I thought one smile sweet
upon earth, but now I see and feel infinitely more. What
you enjoy uyw is a bh'.dow iu comparison of what you will
128 HEAVEN UrO\ EAKTll; OR
enjoy hereafter. Oh, what do you mean, that you prize
his favour no more, that you get no more intimate acquaint-
ance with him ? What do you mean that you are so un-
willing to come to this place of joy? Oh, were you but
possessed of what I speak of, you would say what I say ;
you would never he weary of praising and serving him;
you would never wish yourself out of his presence, and think
it not possible to be in more suitable society." Is it so, 0
my soull What then doest thou here? Make haste, 0
my soul, stay no longer here below, but know thy privilege,
understand where thy comforts are.
12. He is a wise Friend. All the men and women in the
world have great mighty attairs to manage, and they want
skill, wisdom, and discretion for the right management of
these things ; they arc wofuUy averse to their great busi-
ness ; they are Avise to do evil ; but in spirituals they are
become stupid, sottish fools ; and as to the carrying on of
their great work, they do it with the greatest imprudence in
the world ; and they will most certainly for ever undo
themselves, except One that is wiser than themselves under-
take to help them. All things go backward with them,
and they laboiu* in the very lire whilst they act without
God ; and it is impossible it should lie otherwise as long as
there is such a disproportion between man's business and his
spirit. Man is carnal, and his work is spiritual. Would an
ignorant poor creature, that is but one remove above a beast,
be iit to manage the great matters of government 1 How
ridiculously would he behave himself in a chair of state!
How strangely would an unlearned man bungle, should he
go about to solve one of the profoimd demonstrations of
mathematics ! But a natural man is far more imskilful
than any of these, as to the carrying on of that great
emi^loyment that he hath to look after, while he is on this
Bide eternity ; his business is to serve his Maker, but what
pitiful work doth he make of it ! Man is made for an ever-
lasting state ; he is sent into this world to provide for
another : a good, a happiness there is, which he is to look
after ; he ouce had a fail* estate, but he hath spent and lost
jt all, aijd he is to tsee to the recovering of it again. He
JESTTS THE BEST FRIEXD OF MAX. 129
liath beon in arms against his lawful sovereign, and Ijcen
guilty of the highest treason, and thereby hath forfeited his
life, his soul ; now he hath his pardon to sue out, and how
doth he go to work in this one thing? To mention no
more, why, he goes to beg a pardon armed cap-a-pie and
with his sword drawn ; he comes to ask pardon for one treason,
and he is found acting another. Lord, have mercy upon
me, and give me leave to break tliy laws, is the sum of all
his prayers. He talks of heaven, and yet makes all the
haste he can to h.ell. lie is told he is out of the way, but
he laughs at hini that tells him so; and that's his best.
Sometimes he rages, and desires with all speed to remove
him that would set him in the road to Zion. He calls for
a hatchet to cut down the bough upon which he stands.
And this is your man of wisdom ! The man is under sail
in the midst of rocks and sands ; and if he would but look,
lie might see many doleful spectacles, to the tops of masts,
shipwrecked souls I mean ; and though the pilots tell him
of the danger, yet he says he will never believe but that it
is the best and safest road to the harbour, and so on he goes
as if he were sure he would not miscarry ; and all this
while he will not be persuaded but that he acts very Avisely;
he judgeth it one of his greatest comforts, that he runs to
misery without any hinderance ; and how can it otherwise
be, except men wore spiritually wise? And who can teach
man this wisdom ? V/Iid sliall instruct him? Who shall
help him, now his aflaira are upon the matter almost despe-
rate ? Why, if thou wilt but hoar, bore is Oni; that will yet
undertake tliy sole cause, if thou wilt be advised by him ;
for this is he who will set all to right. And oh, how doth
he call after you ! how willing to give you his advice ! how
desirous to assist vou ! "Wisdom crieth without; she
uttereth her voice in the streets : she crioth in the chief
place of concourse, in the openings of the gates ; in the city
she uttereth her words, saying, How long, ye simi)lo ones,
will ye love simplicity ? and the scorners deliglit in their
scorning, and fools hate knowledge? Turn you at my reproof :
behold, I will pour* out my Sjiirit upon you, I will mako
known my words unto you," I'rov. i. i2U-23. And will you
130 HiiAVj'IX UPON fiARTIt; OR,
set at naught all his counsels, and have none of his reproofs ?
Will you rather be ruined than be beholden to him for
advice. Let me put in one word. If this wise Counsellor be
not for you, he will be against you ; and if you find any
that can order your sad affairs more to your advantage, I
pray make use of him ; but if you will be inled by him, you
cannot miscarry, though you are in an ill condition ; though
you be quite broken, yet he will give you such a stock as
that you may set up again, and such directions as that you
cannot but thrive, if you will but follow them. It is he
that teacheth his spiritual frugality, not to part with that
for a trifle which will be a rich commodity erelong ; it is he
who persuades us to make the best use of everything ; it is
he that teacheth fools more true wisdom than the great
politicians of the Avorld ; though the world judge them
weak, yet they have wit enough to make a good bar-
gain, to value heaven before hell, to fly from everlasting
burnings. They are wise enough to know what is for their
real advantage, and what not. This is he that I would
bring thee "acquainted with. It is he who giveth his so much
understanding, as to know the true worth of things, and the
difference between good and evil, finite and infinite, time
and eternity. Who is it that David goes to for counsel,
when his politic enemies combine against him? Where
doth he advise 1 Who brings him out of all his intricacies 1
Is it not He that I am persuading you to go to, who was
never outwitted, who can easily turn the counsel of Ahith-
ophel into foolishness 1 It is he who can infatuate the great
sages of the world, and make them weaker than children in
their counsels. And this is he who will be a constant Coun-
sellor to all those that are his friends, his acquaintance.
Sen'^ca,Epist.xli.lxxxi., gives excellent counsel indeed, which
if we will precisely follow, oui' matters cannot but succeed.
"Art thou never in any straits? Are all thy affairs carried
on with so much prudence, both as to time and eternity, that
thou standest in no need of advice 1 Art thou sure that this
will always be thy condition 1 If not, why then wilt thou
not be persuaded to strike in here?" Why, if you will
believe them who to their comfort have tried Him again
JFSUS THE BEST FRIEND OF MAN. l?,i
and again, it isj-our unspeakable interest and wisdom to get
God for your Friend, and then wliatsoever you do shall pros-
per by his advice ; a poor Christian can outwit all the policy
of hell, and show himself more wise than those who call
him fool and count him mad. David durst trust none else
to guide him ; but with His conduct he doth not fear but that
he shall come safe to his journey's end : " Thou slialt ftuide
me by thy counsels, and bring me to thy glory," Ps. Ixxiii.
24. And again, he saith, by the help 5f this Counsellor
he was wiser than his teachers, Ps. cxix. 99. Hear, there-
fore, wliat you had best do, as matters stand with you,
"I liave taught thee in the way of wisdom; I have led thee
in right paths. When thou goest, thy steps shall not be
sti-aitened; and when thou runnest, thou shalt not stumljje,"
Prov. iv. 11, 12. " Because the foolishness of God is wiser than
men," 1 Cor. i. 25. That which looks most contemptible, if
thoroughly understood, will be found to have more depth ia
it tlian the wisest men of the world can reach. To choose
such a Friend, this is wisdom, this is prudence. The godly
man knows that he hath a gi-eat cause to be decided erelong,
and that it will be no lost labour to make the Judge his
Friend. Well, what say you, sinners ? Is this considerable
that I do now ]iropound, or is it not? Can you plead your
own cause, can yon clear your title to glory without him ?
If not, be well advised before you slight such a motion as I
now make to you.
i;}. He is an immortal Friend. Ay, that's a friend in-
deed. If one friend cuuid be sure to live just as long as
the other ; and were friends sure never to want the advice,
comfort, society, and help of one another, it would not a
little advance tlie worth of a friend. But where is such a
one to be found ? What histories can give lis an account of
such amities? Let jjcrsons be united in ever so close a
union, conjoined in the fastest knot that nature can tie, yet
death will first or last dissolve it. 8o that sometimes I
have been almost of this mind, as to all worldly friends,
considering tliem abstmct from God, (for grace in any friend
dotii unspcakaldy sweeten the relation, and such a relation
will not die ;) if we compare the shortness and uncertainty
132 HEAVEN UPON EAIITH ; OR,
of posscssint^, and tlie bitterness in losinp;, witli tlic sweet-
ness of enjoying, tliat it is somewhat diliicult to resolve,
whether such shortlived comforts are wortli the looking
after. Not but that I think a friend, a true friend, a great
mercy, and much to be desired ; but really, if our aftections
be not for God's sake, if our love be not regulated by reli-
gion, I can easily believe that the bitterness in losing doth
overbalance the pleasure of enjoying. And who would
much trouble himself to get that with care vv-hich must be
possessed Avith fears, and will be parted with with tears ?
All worldly enjoyments will serve us thus. When we ex-
pect most from them, and please ourselves to think what
content we enjoy in them, ten to one, if God love us, but
that he either imbitters or takes away that comfurt from us.
One saith I had a dear husband, such a one as never woman
had, l)ut he is dead, I have lost him. Another saith, I had
a jn-ecious child, a brother, but he is gone. And everybody
■will be in this note first or last. And if the case be thus,
•who would be so foolish as to let out the strength of his soul
upon that which he may soon be deprived of 1 But here is
a Friend, whom you need not fear over-loving, nor losing; a
never-dying Friend, one that will be sure to outlive you.
" Say of what you will, that it is mortal, and you have
disgraced it enough. For how can that be of any great worth
which can die, and, Avhen I have most need of it, I maj'
want; but this cannot be said of God ; he only is immortal,
and not subject to changes. As for the favour of princes and
great ones, at the best, it is but an imcertainty : for, it may
be, all thy hopes are bound xvp in his life, and that hour
which puts an end to his days puts a period to thy com-
fort." (Ar. Ep. 1. iii. c. 22.) But it is another kind of fi lend
that I would have you acquainted with. Oh why do Chris-
tians dote upon that which is so shortlived? Make but
choice of this Friend, and you shall never say of him, He is
dead, I have lost him. WJierefore, " put not your trust in the
son of man, in M'hom there is no help. His breath goeth
forth, he rcturneth to his earth ; in that very day his
thoughts perish. Happy is he that hath the God of Jacob
for his help, whose hope is in the Lord his God, which mad<»
JESUS THE BEST FRIEND OF MAX. 133
heaven and earth," &.C., Ps. cxlvi. 3-6, that God who is calli'd
the Living God.
14. He is a present Friend, a Friend that is always in all
places. Man's condition may possibly l^e sucli as that he may
be deprived of the company of his dearest worldly relations ;
he may be sequestered from the society of his most helpful
and necessary friends. How oft have the dear children of
God been clapt up in dungeons, not only from the sight, but
from the knowledge of their more affectionate acquaintance !
It is no unusual thing for them to be Imnished from their
native country. Wives and children, among savage men
and beasts, have no man to make their complaints to, but
such as will increase their sorrows. How frequently may
they be in such a condition, as that tliey may not see,
hear, nor speak to any friend ! What bolts and bars, what
walls and guards, to keep them from them, who if they
could not free them from, yet might in some measure alle-
viate their misery! But now God is such a Friend, who
cannot, who will not, be kept out from his by walls of brass
or barsof iron ; he will findout his friendsin the darkest holes,
and bear them company there in spite of all the powers of
hell. Oh ! how reviving are his visits ! What cordials doth
he bring along with him ! This is that which makes the peo-
jile of God so very cheerful, when their enemies make ac-
count their condition is such as that it had no mixture of
joy or comfort in it. Was that a prison or heaven where
those martyrs were singing Hallelujah'? Was that a time
to be so merry, when all tlie world disowned them, wlien they
were loaded witli reproaches, and irons, and chains, counted
the troublei"s of the nation, madmen, heretics I The case is
clear: the sight of this Friend makes them forget their
scorns, and think their chains gold, and their i)rison lil)erty.
Ifc was God that spake it, and he hath been found to be as
p(X)d as his word. " Thus saith the Lord that created thee,
0 Jacob, and he that formed thee, 0 Israel, Fear not: for I
liavc redeemed thee, I have eaUed thee by ti>y name; thou
art mine. When thou passcst through the waters, I will be
with thee; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow
thee: when thou walkest through the fire, thou ^halt not
134 nEAVEX upox earth ; or,
be burnt ; neither shall the flame kindle upon thee," Is. xliii.
1, 2. Who was he who bore the three children company in
the fiery furnace? Who was he who went into the lions'
den to visit Daniel ? Who brought Paul alive to the shore
when the ship in which he went was wrecked 1 Was it not
this Friend that I am now speaking of? I niiglit be large
in reciting the miraculous preservations which God hatli
vouchsafed to his, which is a manifest token of his pre-
sence ; when none can come near, he will not be far off.
In the greatest extremities, when none durst own them,
then God reckons it time for him to show himself. It
was not for nothing that the Psalmist could speak so
cheerfully when others were quaking, Ps. xlvi. 1, &c.
What was it that bore up his spirits, when there v.-ere such
dreadful commotions? What refuge hath he to shelter
himself under in time of such calamity ? In what doth his
strength lie, that he is so confident ? Whence doth he ex-
pect a supply, that he holds it out so bravely, when his ene-
mies are so numerous, and his fiiends so scarce? Why,
David hath his invisible Friends, as well as visible enemies.
Ask him, and he will tell you, that God is his refuge and
strength, and he is his confidence, and he will come in
when he hath the greatest need ; he will be a very present
help in trouble. And that is the reason that David will
not fear, though the storm were far greater than ever yet
he was in ; though the earth ■were removed, and the moun-
tains were cast into the midst of the sea ; though the foun-
dations of the earth were shaken; though the sea should
roar and threaten the earth with, another deluge, he can
sleep as securely as a person little concerned ; and this he
can speak, not only for himself, but for the whole city of
God ; God is in the midst of her, she shall not be moved.
The saint hath a Friend that will bear him company in all
places, in all dangers, and in his company he need not be
afraid. Let the' least child that God hath give but one cry,
and he will soon awake. It cannot but be so from the spi-
rituality of his nature, the immensity of his being, and the
infiniteness of his love. It was orthodox divinity and doc-
trine that Ar. Epictetus, 1. ii. c. 14, preached (though but a
JE3CS THE BEST FRIEXP OF MA^'. 13')
heatlicn.) when he siii.l tluit '" the first lesson that became
a wise man to learn, was, that there was a God, and then,
that nothing in the world could he concealed from him, and
that he knew not only our outward actions, but our most
secret workings, our closest curtain-business ; and not only
so, but even our thoughts, projects, and principles: which
speaks him everywhere, and consequently ready at hand to
help his friends at a dead lift." '' Wherefore," saith the
same author, idem. 1. iii. c. 22, " think not that thou art
alone when thou art in thy chamber, in tin' bed, when thy
curtains are drawn, when thou art locked up in a prison,
ever so dark, under ground ; if thou art good, thou shalt
liave two companions in spite of the malice of all thy ene-
mies, a good conscience and thy God." This made that
brave moralist dare his enemies to do their worst, to ex-
clude his friends from him. " Can," said he, " any man be
banished out of the world ? Wheresoever you sertd me,
there will be the sun, moon, and stars ; but if not, God is
there, I am sure, with whom I may talk, to whom I may
pray; he will bear me company, though all the rest of my
friends be kept from me. Anil as long as you cannot banisli
me from God, nor keep him from me, I shall reckon mj'self
at liberty; and should I be sent out of this world into
another, even there I should lind my Friend; and he will
scarce complain that he is removed from a jdace where
almost all are his enemies, to a place where all are his
friends." One would have thought these poor heathens
liad been reading Ps. cxxxix. Do you liear, 0 Christians,
what l;inguage those fore-mentioned jiersons speak / And
shall these that never had the thousandth part of that ad-
vantage for the knowledge of God, speak and act thus, and
shall Christians have such low tlioughts of God I Because
we do not see God, shall we therefore not believe that he is
l>resent everywhere ? lie that denies God's own presence,
liad ujion the matter as good deny his being; for were it
nut su, how could he judge the world with justice ^ how
could all things be sustained by liis power] God takes this
as a very high indignity, that any should in the least ques-
tion this glorious attribute. "Am I a God at hand, and
136 HEAVEN tJrON EARTH ; OR,
not a God afar ofr ? Can any hide himself in secret places
that I shall not see him ? saitli the Lord: do not I fill hea-
ven and earth? saith the Lord," Jer. xxiii. 23, 24. And
is not this a Friend worth the having, who will he snre not
to be absent when you have need of him ? The Ancked
indeed say, How doth God know, and can he see through
the thick clouds ? and therefore they sin with confidence,
and oppress the friends of God without any fear ; they hope
God doth not lichold, they think Omniscience knows not. I
wish there were not something too like this sometimes in
the thoughts of God's people too ; but let mc only leave
that one Scripture with the first sort : " He that planted
the ear, shall he not hear ? He that formed the eye, shall
he not see ? He that teacheth man knowledge, shall he not
knowl The Lord knoweth," &c., Ps. xciv. 9-11. As for
the desponding Christian that begins to think God is out
of the reach of his prayers, let me ask thee, 0 thou of little
faith, when did God ever absent himself from his in a time
of need i When was he quite out of the hearing of their
cry? 1 know indeed he may hide himself; yet then he is
near them also, to try their love and hear their voice ; for
God loves to hear his children cry : earthly parents may
correct their children for crying, but God chastiseth his
children usually for their silence. When he seems farthest
off, he is but behind the curtain, he is there where he with
pleasure sees how earnestly his children look up and down
for him ; and then when they are ready to sit down weep-
ing, as if they had lost their Father ; when they think they
are quite forgot, and their enemies begin to triumph, and
to ask, where now is your God 1 then he lets both friends
and foes know that he is near. And what say you to all
this, you that as yet are strangers to God ? Have you got-
ten such a Friend as he is, that v,-ill always be at your
elbow, that can and will come to help you when other
friends are far enough off, whether man will or no 1 Have
you got such a friend ? If not, why then will you not now
accept of his acquaintance who will be such a Friend to all
that love him ? No good man is without the company of
God; he walks with God, he talks with God, he eats with
JESUS THE BEST FRIEND OP MAX. 137
God, he drinks with God, and is entertained by him, and he
sleeps in his arras. God is witli him in his shop, in the
road, at liome and abroad ; and Avho can miscarry that hath
so helpful a Companion always with him 1 When thy bur-
dens are too heavy, do but complain, and he will either take
them oti" thy back, or ])ut under his own shoulders, and help
thee to go away lightly with them ; he will assist thee ia
bLx troubles, and in seven he will give thee help.
IS. He is a soul-Friend. Soul-friends are the best friends.
As soul-aftairs are the mightiest affairs, so those that give
us the greatest help in those matters ought to be valued.
God is the great soul-Friend. Expect not to find him a Friend
to thy lust. This scares the wicked from him, who would l)e
glad to be acquainted with God, if he would gratify their lusts,
and please their wicked humours, and give them eternal hap-
piness after a life of wickedness ; that is, would un-God him-
self for their sikes. But hold there, man ; you shall sooner
see the sun black, and have lire cold, and tiud a heaven in
liell, than have God a friend to your sin. God doth not
l»romise to furnish all his acquaintance with itrovision for
their f^ensuality; he will not put a knife into thy hands to
stab himself, or to cut thy own throat. There are too many
of such friends in the world; and men are generally so
foolish as to count them friends who deserve another
name; these arc they who heli) men to hell, and show
them the shortest cut to eternal misery, and this must
go for a special khidness. Sure men and women will
scarce be always of this mind. INlust poison in a gilded
cup go for a corilial, and a kiss, though with a dagger, be
taken for true love ? Seneca had more wit than to reckon
such among benefactors, lie that can teach me the way
to true haiipiness, he that ciin help me to adorn, dress,
and trim my soul ; he l)y whose instructions I shall be
more in love with virtue, and oiit of love with sin ; ho
by whose directions I may 1)0 aciiuainted with myseif,
and made truly to value that which is really most excel-
hiit, this shall be my friend, this shall be my compa-
nion. And where arc such friends to be found? How few
of VUviii in till! world! ]h> nut mobt thu.t ^v under th:vt
138 HEAVEN TTPON EARTH ; OK,
sweet name of friends do one another the greatest uuklnd-
ness that can be imagined ? How do they encourage one
another in an evil way ? Prov. i. ; Ps. ii. How do men tug
and pull to get one another apace into damnation ! and if
the world may be judges, none must go for a friend but he
that would do me most mischief; none must be counted an
enemy but he that desires to do me the most real kind-
nesses. This sound^ strangely. Yet for all that, did it lie
in my way, I could easily prove it. Yet I must confidently
affirm, that every one's experience, first or last, will say as
much. Something of this I have taken notice of in my
conversing with dying men. I remember, once more parti-
cularly, being by a poor creature that was just going into
another world ; one of his old friends looked in to see him,
at the sight of which person he gnashed his teeth, and
could not endure him in the room, but cried out, This was
he that brought me to this ; I may thank him, or I had
not been in so sad a condition upon a death-bed. But this
by the by : open enemies are better than such friends. I
say again, do not expect to have God such a fi'iend. God
loves his too well to let them undo themselves ; he knows
the worth of souls ; and pities them that would part with
their souls for a trifle ; and therefore he tells men plainly
that which may be really prejudicial to the health of their
souls ; he cannot but let them know what is food and what is
poison. What else is the meaning of those vehement ex-
postulations ? Whj' doth he send so many messengers one
after another ? To what purpose else doth he tender such
promises, such encouragements? Be it known, therefore,
unto thee, 0 man, if thou understandest the worth of thy
own soul, and wouldst have that soul of thine to do well
for ever, and wouldst have a Friend for thy soul, that there
is but one such Friend to be foimd in the whole world,
and that is God. Oh, hast thou no regard at all for thy .
precious and immortal soul ? Dost thou never think of
that excellent thing within thee? Dost thou not care
though thy soul starve, be naked, and miserable for ever ?
Is it nothing to thee, that thy soul hath not so much as a
shelter to hide itself under, when a dreadful ttorm sliall
ji;sus THE UKST friexi> uf ma.v. 139
rise, and death shall turn it out of its old tenement] Dost
thou not l)elieve that it must have a being somewhere for
ever, and that either in everlasting glory or eternal burn-
ings ? And are these small matters with you I What, ^n]l
you for all this take no care in the Avorld about these grand
affairs ? Had a special friend conmiitted but a dog to thee
to take care of, you would have thought yourself engaged,
in gratitude and honour, to have suited your care of him to
your respect for the person from whom you had him. (Epict.)
" But dost thou not know, 0 man, that thy God hath com-
mitted a soul t(j thy care, and iiath told thee what thou
shalt do to preserve the life and health of this thy soul,
tliat it may be in good plight when he shall call for it ] He
duth tell tliee what is its most natural food, and Avhat is not
wliolesome. He tells thee what thou shalt do to have that soul
within thee everlastingly happy." And is all this of so little
conse(iuence, as to go in at one ear and out at the other?
Are these things to be inditierent in ? If man's soul were
like the soul of a beast, the case were altered ; if, when his
In-eatli went out of his body, tliere were an end of him,
the matter were the less considerable. If he had ever a
friend in another world, that could do as much for him as
God can do, I should have little to say in this liusiness.
But since this is impossible, liow can I l:)ear to see thee
neglect the making sure of such a Friend > How can a
Christian with any patience think, that those that he lives
with and dearly loves sliould miss sucli a Friend, with-
out whom tlieir souls nmst be everlastingly miserable. If
it were only for your bodies or estates. I should scarce use
so many words, neitlier, I lielieve, need I ; but when it is for
your souls and eternity, wlio can be silent? Once more,
consider what a Friend thou mayst have; it is a Friend for
thy soul. Alas, man, it is thy soul, thy precious soul, tliat
lies at stake; tliat spirit within thee, whicli is more wortli
tlian a world ; it is that wliich is in hazard, and here is a
Friend that offers thee to make that soul of tliine hapjiy for
ever. Thy soul hath abundance of enemies. Some would
debase it; others would rob thee of it; others would clai> up
ft liasty match between that noble creature and a s.rvant,
140 HEAVEN UPON earth; or,
t!ie workl, I mean. And there are very few that have any
true kindness for it ; and tliou knowest not the worth of
that jewel, tliy soul : but here, here 's a Friend; if thou wilt
but leave it with hini, he will take care of it ; it shall not
be marted away for nothing. Here 's one will do that fur
its security, honour, and happiness, that all the world be-
sides cannot do. If, therefore, thou hast any love for thy
poor soul ; if thou settest any price upon that precious thing
Avithin thee ; in a word, if thou w- ouldst havQ thy soul do
well in another world, oh strike in here, close with these
tenders, listen to the counsel of Him who offers you the best
advice in the world. He, he it is that now otters thee that
thou canst never value enough; he it is that will feed,
olothe, and portion that soul of thine, and after that marry
thee to his only Son ; by which match you will be made
fur ever. Oh, did men and women but know what a soul
is : did they imagine Avliat a dreadful miscarriage that of a
soul is ; did they but in any measure understand the things of
their peace ; could they but conceive what God could and
would do for their souls, I need spend Init little time in
persuading them to conunit their souls to him, to be ac-
([uainted with him, who will be sure to take special care of
their souls, that they may do well, whatever is neglected.
Oh could you but see, did you but know what a sad taking
they are in that go into the other world with a poor, naked
soul, and know nobody in the world there, and have never
a friend that doth take any notice of them, you would then
think I spoke what I do with reason enough, and that my
words were too short, and my expostulations too faint, in a
matter of such concernment. 0 sinners, I tell you, nay,
God tells you, soul-matters are the greatest matters in the
world. I am sure Christ thought so, or else he would not
have been at so much cost about them; those that are in
their wits and understand themselves know as much
too, and so will you, ere a few ytiars, it may be hours, be
]jast. Those .that now speak contem])tuously of all this,
when they have been but one quarter uf an hour in another
world, wUl say as I do, that a soul-friend is the only friend,
mi ih^t soul-coucerns are the great concerns; things of
JESrS THE BEST FRiEXi) OF MAX. 141
weight ami moment indeed; and that It would have quhted
tlie.cost to have taken some pains to liave looked out for
such a one tliat could liave stood the soul in some stead in
that other world ; and that, above all, it would have been
no folly nor madness to liave accepted of the kindness of one
that desired earnestly to be ac(iuainted with them, and to do
their soul a good turn. Oh that they had but been so con-
siderate as to have embraced such a motion when it was
offered! And this brings me to the next qualification of
this Friend.
16. He is a necessary Friend. There is an absolute
necessity of being acquainted with him. It is possible for
a man that hath very few friends upon earth to live as
happily as he that hath many. Multitude of acquaintance,
such as they are, may contriliute much to a man's care and
sorrow. And as for most friends, such as are commonly so
called, it is better to have their room than their company.
A man may live without the acquaintance of nobles; he
may be as free, cheerful, and rich, without the knowledge of
such as them. One may live holily, and die joyfully, and
may be liappy for ever, though he never saw the face of a
prince, though he was never at court, though lie lived and
died a stranger to all ^^•orldly friends. One may be disowned
by his father, hated l)y his mother, slighted by all his
relations, and have never a friend under the sun that will
own him, and yet for all that be in a state of truer felicity
than those that arc daily attended with troops of visitors,
whose gates are seldom shut, whose houses are never empty;
but amongst all that comes, God never comes to them, as for
his company they are strangers to it ; this man I may write
miseraide for all his great and many friends. And him that
hath the conq.any of God in acquaintance with his lledeemer
I'll call happy, though lie liave never a friend in the world
])csides. Multitudes of friends seldom add much to our
coinfnts, but always to our cares. A man may go to hell
for all his great acquaintance with men; but it's impossible,
if we are greatly acquainted with God, to miss heaven.
When men are unkind, if God be kind, it 's well balanced ;
but if God frown, whose smiles can cum fort ^ I may b3
K
142 HEAVEN UPOX HARTn; OR,
happy though I may l>e very little in man's favour; but
it's impossible to be happy witliout God's favoiir. To be a
stranger to God is to bo a stranger to peace, joy, heaven. Oh
it's sad being without God! If I should declare the judg-
ment of most in the world, at least if their practice may speak
for them, they see very little need of acquaintance with God.
They do not write must upon the things of religion. They
must eat, they must drink, they must sleep, and if they want
any of these things, they count themselves in a sad condition.
But further, they miist riot, they must be drunk, they must
whore, they must have what their lust calls for, let it be
what it Avill, they must get into the favour of such and
such a great person whose displeasure they have incurred;
these are things that the world say must be ; they are
reckoned among the necessary things : but they do not say
they must have a Christ, they must be reconciled to God,
they must deny themselves, they must seek iirst the king-
dom of heaven ; no, these are indifferent things amongst
them, these are things minded by the by, if not matter of
scorn and jesting ; these the world thinks unnecessary things.
It 's necessary their flesh should be pleased ; it 's necessary
the devil should be obeyed ; it 's necessary they and theii-s
should be somebody in the world: these are matters of
weight ; for these they think it worth the while to toil and
moil, to ride early and late, and to lose their sleep, and
tliink they can never do too much ; and all this while they
see no need at all of getting a friend for their souls, no need
at all of knowing, loving, and delighting in God. Well,
seeing the case is thus, seeing it is no great matter whether
you know God, or be known of him ; be not then troubled
at the day of judgment, if God look upon you as a stranger,
then be not grieved (seeing the knowledge of God is nothing
with you) if God say he knows you not ; if God's presence
be no such material thing, complain not then for the want
of it ; be content, if you can, to hear him say, " Depart, I
know you not." Oh, but shall I thus leave you, poor igno-
I'ant sinner ? Consider, for the Lord's sake, for thj^ soul's
sake, whether it be a necessary thing to avoid everlasting
bmniing?. Is it a necessary thing to be saved? Is eternal
JESUS TTir crsT rniENT of max. 143
plory ami ]u';ivcn nocessaiy? Dare you say tlicse are un-
necessary things? If these he necessary, then I am sure
God and Clirist are necessary: "For this is life eternal, to
know God, and him whom he hath sent, Jesus Christ." Oh
how will the case be altered erelong, witii the God-hating
and Christ-despising world ? When they shall be quite
despoiled of all that which they jirizcd above the knowledge
of God, when all their friends shall appear to be enemies,
when all their hopes shall be swept down like a spider's
web, oh, will they not then be of this mind, that it was
no such slight matter that I was so earnest with them about;
that acquaintance with God was no such unnecessary thing
as they took it to l)e; and that there Avas more need of
getting an interest in Clirist than of running to a jdayhouse
or a whore-house I IIow will they rend the skies with their
fruitless wishes ! How will the mountains echo with their
doleful lamentations ! Oh that God would but knoAv them !
Oh that they might not hear that vrord, Depart ! But
seeing all that to little ])ur])ose, how then will they exclaim
against themselves ! Oh that they should be such fools;
that they should be so madly Ijcsotted as to neglect the
looking after acquaintance with God ! Time was that God
would have had them to come to him ; he called after them,
and sent fur them again and again, but they would none of
•liis company; they desired not the knowledge of tlie jNIost
High; they said to him. Depart from us: and now they
have what tlicy then desired; now they see that t]u>
ministers had cause enough lo say what they did, and a
thousand times more. As troublesome aS it was to licar of
licll, it 's worse to feel it. They see now mvst is for tlio
soul, and not the body. Oh tliat men and Avomen would
be now as serious in their judgments about these things as
•they will be shortly! Consider, () man, that as little as
thou niindest these tilings, these arc the only things that
arc necessary. Thuu must have a God fur thy Friend, a
Clirist for thy Saviour, to save thee from thy sins, or else
• tliou must be damned, or else tliou must be cui-scd for ever.
Thou mayst lie racked upon thy bed of sickness, where
none can help thco; thou mayst rot in a stinking dungeon,
144 HEAVEN tJPON earth; OR,
wlieve no man can relieve tliee ; thou mayst he roasted in
the flames, and yet for all this be a happy man. Worldly
ease, pleasure, health, riches, are none of those absolutely
necessary things. A man may go to hell, and have them all ;
and a man may go to heaven, and want them. Thou mayst
have eternal rest in another life, though thou hast scarce a
day of ease in this. One may be a favourite with God,
though as miserable as Job. But what will you say of that
man that hath not a God to go to ? This, this is the miser-
able man, with a witness ! Oh that, seeing men's lives are
so short, they would wisely husband their precious time in
minding nothing but necessary things ! Oh that unneces-
saries might be cut off"! When I am about to imdertake a
business, let me ask my soul this question : 0 my soul, is
this a business of absolute necessity 1 Hast thou not some-
thing of greater importance that is yet undone 1 We enter not
into the lists for honour, where it is no great matter whether
we conquer or no ; Ave persuade not men'to busy themselves
about toys ; we are not so importunate about a thing of no-
thing. No, sirs, as uimecessary as you .think these things
we speak of are, erelong you will say as much as we do,
and more too; you'll shortly find that it was as much as
your life and happiness was worth that lay at stake. These
are things we must mind you of, or else we hazard our
souls ; and they are things that you must mind also, or else
you hazard yours. I want significant words enough to ex-
])ress the weight and importance of these things. Oh that
what is wanting of that nature might be supplied with
tears, groans, and compassions! I am, through mercy,
ashamed of my own heart, (oh that I were more so !) that I
should speak of such serious matters so slightly. It is not
now a time to jest, 0 my soul, when thou art to discourse
with miserable men and women, who refuse their happi-
ness, and dote upon their misery. Thou art now about a
work that concerns souls and their eternal state. Tell me,
dear friends, do you in sober sadness believe that you have
immortal souls ? Do you indeed know that your souls are
naturally enemies to God ? and that, if you be not recon-
ciled to God, you must be dealt with as enemies? Do
JESUS THE BEST I'lUEXii oi' MA.V. 145
you really believe all this 1 Do you believe what a dread-
ful thing it is to look such an Enemy in the face, when he
shall sit in judgment? Further, do you believe what it is
to lie down in devouring flames, and to dwell with ever-
lasting burnings ? Do you not think it a fearful thing to
fall into the hands of the living God ? And if you do not,
let me tell you, you are worse than mad. If you do believe
all this, why, then, let me ask you again, whether you con-
ceive it unnecessary to use tlie utmost care and diligence
to get acquainted with Him who can deliver you from the
wrath to come ? 0 friends ! I call you so, and I believe
most of you love me dearly. Oh that you would do me
one kindness-, I should count it the greatest kindness that
you can do me. Wliy, what is that you say! Why, it is
but to pity your own souls, and to mind that one thing
necessary, and to ]iity them that are mourning for your dry
eyes and hard hearts. What say you to all this ? If you
have anything to say against the necessity of these things,
I am ready to plead the case with you. Well, if it be not
necessary to know God and Christ, and lay in provision for
eternity, what then is necessary I If»it he not necessary tw
serve, love, and delight in Him who can deliver from ever-
lasting death, and reward Avith everlasting life, what then
is? Once more, for your souls' sakes, consider what you
do, when you vigorously pursue worldly things, and look
upon the favour and displeasure of God as small things.
Oh, wTite not these things down amongst the superfluous
tilings which are to be minded liy the by. Remember tliis,
that it is very possible for a man to be exceeding holy, and
yet to 1)0 altogether miknown to the world ; liut it is alto-
gether impossible to be truly hapi)y, and yet unacquainted
with God.
17. He is a tried Friend. Thousands and millions can
from their own experiences say all tliis wjiich I have said of
him, and much more; but I shall pass this over at present,
having hintetl it already; and because it may be I may touch
ui)on something of the same nature hen.iftcr.
\H. He is an everlasting Fricml. 1 siiall he but brief in
sjieaking to this hend, because what has been spoken of tills
146 HEAVES UPON EARTH ; OR,
fell under that of his immortality. Nevertheless, it is iiossibla
to conceive God immortal in himself, and yet, by reason
of man's default, his kindness to him to be finite ; so it was
in respect of the angels that fell from him. But now, Messed
be free grace, man stands upon surer ground than ever he
did; the children of God have a firmer bottom by far than
Adam had when he was in paradise ; his state is more secure,
being once united to God in Christ, than that of the angels
of heaven in their first creation. Fur, that their state was
mutable, is de facto proved. But now, blessed be rich
goodness, if we can but make sure of reconciliation with God,
again it is impossible for us to miscarry. God hath sworn,
and he will perform it, that the heirs of glory might have
the more strong consolation: "For this is as the waters of
Noah unto me : for as I have sworn that the waters of Noah
should no more go over the earth ; so have I sworn that I
would not be wroth with thee, nor rebuke thee. For the
mountains shall depart, and the hills be removed ; but my
kindness shall not depart from thee, neither shall the
covenant of my peace be removed, saith the Lord that hath
mercy on thee," Isa. liv. 9, 10. God's children need not
fear disinheriting. His gifts and callings are without re-
pentance. If God loved us while we were enemies, how
much more, being reconciled, will he continue Ms love
to us! Once a child of God, and a child of God for ever;
once in favour, and never out of it again. "Who shall
separate us from the love of Christ? shall tribulation, or
distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril,
or sword 1 Nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature,
shall be able to separate us froni the love of God, which
is in Christ Jesus our Lord," Rom. viii. 35, 39. Who San
pluck us out of the arms of the Almiglity ? W"ho or what is
that wliich can alienate our Father's ati'ections from us ? If
the promise of God, which saith, I Avill never leave nor for-
sake you, be valid ; if his oath l)ind him ; if the blood of
Christ continue always to be satisfactory ; if his mediation
can prevail ; if the nature of God be unchangeable ; we arc
well enough, avc are safe, if this be but clear that we are
really reconciled to Gud; if wc be ac(|uaiati'Lf vith hnii.
JJiSOS TUB BilST FiaKNl> Oi' JtAX. 147
we are kept h.y the miglity power of God tlivough faith unto
salvation. If tlicy had been of us, saith the apostle, no douht
they would have continued with us. It is possible indeed,
yea, common for men to prutcnd love to God, and to seem
to have a true friendship for him, and yet not to be truly so.
To have a name to live, and to live, are two things. It is
not unusual to bear God company (as I may say) abroad, and
yet at home to liave somebody that they have a greater
kindness for. It is common to go along with God (if I may
so call it) in the external actions of religion, and yet to de-
sert him at hist, Isa. Iviii. 1, 2, 3 ; 3Iatt. vii. 21. There are
many tluit seem to bid fair for heaven, and if cap and knee
will do, God shall have that; they will give him the husk
and sliell, that they may keep the kernel for one that they
love better. Thousands there are of such persons in the
world; and these profess abundance of kindness for God;
they come oft to his house, and sit down there, and make as
if they were his friends and his acquaintance ; and some of
God's servants, by a mistake, may bid them welcome ; but
yet for all this they may be strangers ; only they have heard
of God, and can talk of him, and it may be, have given liim
many transient visits, but yet they want the real properties
of friends : they never knew what it was to be brought nigh
to the Father by the Son ; to have a sense of their lost stato
and estrangement from God,, and under a sense of this,
to make earnest inquiry after him ; they never knew what
it was to converse with Go<l, to have an intimate acquaint-
ance with him ; to be sending out the breathing of their souls
after him, and to be unsatisfied without him ; they took up
a trade of lifeless duties, and that was all. As for the life
and power of religion, they never luulerstood it: communion
with God they lieard oft of, but never understood what it
meant ; they never savoured and relished the things of God,
nor with any suitableness or complacency engaged in his
service: and as for those more secret actings of religion; —
to take up the interest of God, to design his glory, to bo
deeply concerned for his honour, observing their aH'eetions,
aM<l the workings of their hearts in duty, to take notice of
finswcrs of prayers, or to look after their ^letitions when
14S
HEAVEN Ul'OX EAUTH ;
they are out of tlieir mouths ; they know not wliat these
things are. So that from hence it appears that God and
they were never really acquainted. No wonder then that they
do forsake God, and are forsaken of him. The building might
look neat, and the house seem to be strong; but because it was
builtuponthesands,itneednot seem strange if itfall when the
winds rise and the waves beat against it : but I say it, and
say it again, the house that is built upon a rock will not,
cannot fall : if a man be really united to God in Christ, and
the Avork of grace thoroughly wrought upon liim, it is im-
possible that God should forsake such a one. God cannot
but be true, though man be false ; he cannot but value the
satisfaction and intercession of his Son ; he cannot foi-get
his own nature : " Can a woman foi-get her sucking child,
that she should not Iiave compassion on the son of her
womb ? yea, they may forget, yet will I not forget thee.
Behold, I have graven thee upon the palms of my hands ;
thy walls are continually before me," Isa. xlix. 15, 16. I
do not say but that God may suspend the refreshing intima-
tions of his love ; naj^, he may quite hide his face, and his
dearest ones may look ujion themselves as free among the
dead ; they may reckon themselves such as have no acquain-
tance with God, and yet for all this be exceeding dear to
God: this is cleared by every day's experience. Nay, I
may say, I believe that there are very few of them who
know what God's presence, smiles, and love is, but know in
some measure what it is to have his face hid, to walk in the
dark, and to see no light. It is no unusual thing for a child
of God to question his state, to fear whether all that he ever
did were not in hypocrisy and formality. Have not the best
been made sometimes to question (especially upon some
notable fall) whether what they did formerly did not pro-
ceed from mere common grace or some less spiritual prin-
ciple than the life of grace and a divine nature within
them. Were there ever any of the sons of Adam whom rich
mercy hath plucked as iirebrands out of the lire, to whom
the Lord hath showed his marvellous kindness and love in
Christ, that have kept tlieir watch ;^o exactly, tliat have
walked so closely with (Jud, so as never to have the least
JE51S TIIi: BEST I'KIK.Nl) OF MAX. 149
frown from him ? Were there ever any that lived all their
days mider a constant lively sense of their interest in divine
everlasting love] If there be, they have fared better than
Job did; they enjoyed more than ever Ileman or David
did. A child of God may oft he in a sad state, but yet he
is always in a safe state: the purpose of God stands tirni.
Though for a small moment he seem to forsake them, yet
with everlasting mercies will he gather them, Isa. liv. 7. Oh,
everlasting ! That 's a sweet word indeed in the saint's ear ;
he would not that one word should have been out of the
Bible, left out of the jironiise, for a world. If thou be
once truly acquainted with God, thy state is as safe, tliy
condition as sure, as if thou wert already in heaven. God
may and will chastise his with rods, l)ut his loving-kindness
he will never remove from them, his mercy endures for
ever. All that God gives to his friends and acquaintance,
that is spiritual, is, like himself, everlasting. God is not like
short-si)irite(l man, every moment changing, one day doting
upon an object, and the next day hating it as much. An
earthly prince may one moment set his favourite at his
table, and the next command that he should be hanged,
liut fiir be it from the uncliangeablc God that he should do
thus. As for the great ones of the world, it hath been
counted by some, and those none of the weakest, no small
I)iece of policy to keep out i»f their knowledge : their tavours
are so dearly bought, their kindness so uncertain, their dis-
pleasure so dangeroire, and yet so easily procured. But
here it is far otherwise. It is God, and God alone, that is
an everlasting Friend, in wIkjsb presence there is fulness of
joy, and pleasure for evermore. Oh these everlasting thinjis
are great tlungs ! An everlasting Friend, and everlasting
inlieritance, everlasting glory, everlasting joy, everlasting
life, and everlasting death, they arc matters of weight ! Oh,
why should not our very souls be overpowered with the
very thoughts of such things! Oh this unbelief, this unbe-
lief!
19. lie is One that is willing and desirous (o lie acquaint-
ed with you. What I have saiil iieforc had signified little
to us, were it not for tbi-,. It i;- a mi'^ery, and iij (jun:f )rt, to
150 HEAVEN UPO:i EAUTIi; OKj
hear and know the great things wliich we must go without.
But this is that which puts life into all those powerful mo-
tives which I handled before. God is the most loving, most
strong, and rich Friend, and withal he hath in him a sweet
inclination to be acquainted with us. The terms that he
offers are the most reasonable in the world. This, this is
the comfort of all the pour fallen sons and daughters of
Adam ; that though they have run away from God, though
they have left their Father's house, and turned prodigals ;
yet their tender-hearted compassionate Father is ready to
receive them again ; his arms are open, he meets them while
they are yet a great way off j he runs to them, and tails upon
their neck, and kisses them, and expresses the greatest
kindness to them, and joy for their return. 0 imparalleled
love I 0 infinite goodness ! God hath expressed this, his will-
ingness to receive poor lost sinners, abundantly throughout
all the Scripture. If God had not been willing to have been
friends again with man, what needed he to have given him-
self the trouble of parting with his dearest Son, and sending
him into the world to manage this great work of reconciling
man to himself ] Why else was that precious blood shed ?
And to what purpose should he send so many iirophets,
apostles, and ministers, for so many hundreds of years, ris-
ing up early, and sitting up late? Why are they com-
manded to cry aloud, to use so much earnestness, to compel
poor wandering strangers to come to his house, but that he
might be acquainted with them'? Can any one conceive
that he should do all this without the least design of kind-
ness 1 If all that God hath done to the reconciling man to
himself, doth not speak his willingness to be reconciled to
them, what can ] Isa. v. 4. Nay, so willing is he to receive
them, notwithstanding all their backslidings, that he teach-
eth them how they may address themselves to him most ac-
ceptably ; he puts words into their mouths which they may
use with good success when they come before him, Hos. xiv.
1, 2, 4. Nay, that sinners may be more confirmed in their
expectation of his favour, he hath most solennily swoni
that " he delights nut in the death of sinners, but had ra-»
ther that the^ should return a,nd live." Wherefore else ia
JESUS TUE BEST FRIEND OF MAN. 151
it that we are so straitlj' commanded, as ^vc will answer
the neglect upon our peril before God at that terrible day,
that we preach the word in season and out of seasun ? To
what purpose should Paul expose himself to so many-
hazards both by sea and laud ? "Why should he teach this
doctrine of reconciliation night and day with tears ? - Doth
lie not tell you that he did all this by divine dispensa-
tion, and that it was as much as his soul was worth to
waive this work ? And doth not all this speak God's willing-
ness to be friends again with man ? Could not he have
sent legions of angels, with flaming swords in their hands,
wlien he sent his Son, and thousands of prophets, apostles,
ministers, and teachers? Might he not have proclaimed
war against them for ever, when lie followed them with the
ambassadors of peace I If he had had no thoughts of agree-
ment with them, could he not have spoken to them in
thunder and lightning, with fire and brimstone, as well as
in tlie still voice of the Gospel ? He could, if he had pleased,
Iiave made them to have known the breach of his covenant,
by giving them up to the Avill of their cruel enemies. God
could as easily have cut off a whole world of us, as we can
crush a moth, and easier too. But he is willing to show
forth the richness of his patience and goodness, that thereby
sinners might be brought to repentance. How doth God
further exj)ress his willingness to receive returning sinners,
by engaging them by many temporal favours! ^Yho pre-
sei-vcd that tender creature in the womb, and brought it out
of those dark chambers into light ] Who kept that helpless
infant after it was in the world ? Whose llax and wool do
we wear upon our backs ? To whom is it that we are be-
holden for every crumb we eat, and eveiy drop we drink?
Who spreads our table for us, and makes our cups to over-
flow ? Who brouL;]it us from the brink of the grave, when
we had received tlie sentence from our doctor and our dis-
ca.se] And what is the language of all these mercies, but,
" Return, O backsliding sinner, for in me is thy helii found ?"
Love, delight in, and l>c acquainted with Him from whom
thou hast received so many kindnesses. If thou wouldst
tt'.cept of Him for tliy Lord, Ihuband, and Friend, who hath
152 HEAVEN UPON EAKTU ; OR,
sent thee these tokens, thou shalt have other favours than
these. Is not this the meaning of all the common mercies
that we daily receive from him ] Why was not thy breath
stopt with an oath in thy mouth ? Why is it that so many
thousands that were born since thyself, are gone to their
eternal state, when thou art still standing? What hast
thou done to engage God more than others, that worms
should not be feeding on thee, when thou art feeding upon
the fat and sweet ? What is the English of all this 1 What
are all these droves of mercies which God sends to thee, but
to cool thy enmity against him, and to make thee, who art
marching out in thy warlike furniture, to meet him vdth
tears of joy and friendly embraces? Is not Love the Giver
written upon all his tokens? What means his frequent
visiting of thee but desire of acquaintance with thee ? Had
he had no desire at all to know you, and to be known of
you, do you think he ^vould have called so often and so
kindly at your door ? Would he have stood knocking with
so much patience, and have spoken to you so lovingly, if he
desired still to be a stranger to you ? Is this like one that
desires your ruin ? Did God never plead with thee by his
ministers, and urge the same argument that I do now ? Did
you never hear of such kind of expostulations as these?
Why wilt thou go on to despise thy God, and to refuse his
love ? What reason hast thou to harbour such hard thoughts
of him ? Doth he deserve such unkindness at your hands ?
How long, ye simple ones, will you love simplicity ? Why
will you make light of that you cannot possibly overv^alue,
the favour of God, and acquaintance with your Maker ? How
often have you grieved his Spirit by your unworthy con-
tempts! How many times have you given him cause to
complain of your unhandsome usage, when he in very pity
and compassion came to visit you ! He hath reason to say
now, as of old, "Hear, 0 heavens; and give ear, 0 earth:
for the Lord hath spoken, I have nourished and brought up
children, and they have rebelled against me," Isa. i. 2. " Do
ye thus requite the Lord, 0 foolish people and unwise ? is
not he thy Father that hath bought thee ? hath he not made
thee, and established thee?"' Deut. xxxii. 6. " 0 that they
JESCS TUB BEST miEXD or MAX. 153
were wise I" " Be thou instructed, 0 Jerusalem, lest my soul
depart from thee," Jer. vi. 8. Is not this the voice of
mercy? Have not these been expostulations of the mighty
God with his rebellious creatures'? and yet how do they
stand it out all this while, as if God were like to get so
much by their acquaintance ! Return, 0 foolish sinner ; if
thou makest anything of salvation and damnation, if thou
valuest everlasting glory, if thou thinkest the commands,
threatenings, and promises of the Almighty to be minded,
come away, and make no delay. Oh, why wilt thou go on
thus madly to undo thyself? Come away, poor soul, for all
this, it is not yet quite too late, thy glass is not yet quite
run, thy soul is not yet fully fixed in its unchangeable state.
Once more I make such an offer to thee, as I am sure none
but a madman will refuse ; such an offer as none of the
kings and lords of the world can make. The great and
mighty ^Monarch of heaven tenders thee an alliance with
himself; he sees how far thou art spent, how poor and
low thou hast brought thyself by a dangerous and long war
against thy Maker ; he foresees what a condition thou wilt
be in after a few more merry hours, except thou repent and
turn. Wherefore, in compassion to thy precious soul, he
hath commanded us to follow thee, and not to let thee be
at quiet till thou hast given us a promise that thou wilt
return and humble thyself to thy God ; and what, shall we
still lose our lab(iur ? shall all tliis come to nothing? 0
prodigy of unkindness ! (.) wiiuder of patience ! Thou hast
slighted the friendship of thy God ; thou hast set light
by Christ, and undervalued heaven and eternity for ten,
twenty, thirty years already ; and yet the Lord sends us
once more in his name to ask you whether you are willing
to have God for your Friend ! God liath not yet said, " Cut
liim down, bind him hand and foot, and cast him into that
lake that burns for ever. Bring those mine enemies, that
would not that I should reign over them, and slay them be-
fore my face." God hath not yet spoken that dreadful word,
Depart. Oh, what is it tliou stuyest for? What is it that
makes this business to hang so long ? What lover is it that
doth 80 long hold back thy heart? What is the matter,
1.54 nrAVEN trrox F.AUTn; on,
t!i Lt wo can no more speedily and efTectnally mnnage this
great affair ? Vv hat is it that tliou dost prefer before God /
Wliat is it that thon tliinkest more worthy of thy warmest
hwe than Christ ? What is that great thing that thou stickest
not to venture thy soul for ? Act like a man that is rational
and not beside himself. If the world be God, if earth be
better tlian Christ, then choose that ; if Clirist be God, then
choose him. How long will you stand halting betw-een two ?
Love that which will last longest ; be acquainted with him
that is willing and able to do most for thee. Is the world
worth more now than it was in David's time, when he pre-
ferred the favour of God before thousands of gold and silver ?
Is the price of it raised? Can it bribe death, and stop the
mouth of divine justice, and procure thee a real respect in
another world? Go, chaffer, and sec what bargain tliou
canst make ; tell God that thou wilt give him thousands
for thy brother's life, and as much more for the lengthening
tlie lease of thy own to eternitj'. What dotli God say? Is
tlie bargain made? Is it not enough ? Why, add a world
to it ; will that do ? If it will not do this, if this pitrchase
be too great for thy purse, then go lower ; can all thou hast
keep thee from fears, get thee a stomach, procure thee ease,
rectify thy constitution; will it do this, or will it not? If
not, why shouldst thou value that which can do so little
for thee, before that which can do .all things for thee? Be
persuaded at last to bo wise. What is God like to get by
your love, or lose by your liatred ? What liave you to boast
of? What excellencies to set you out? What portion to
advance you, tjiat you stand thus upon your terms ? Come,
Itt 's hear a little what it is thou thinkest so highly of thy-
self for. I am sure your over-great beauty c.ymot com-
mend yoii ; for a blackamoor may with better reason brag
of comeliness, than sucli a deformed loathsome creature can
of beauty. I am siu-e your helpfulness will not speak for
you; foi- thou art a cra/.y, decrepit, sickly creature, tluit
'Will cost God move to cui-e tlian thou art worth a thou-
sand times. It cannot be for thy estate that thou art so
nuu'li desired, for all thy gold is adulterated, thy jewels
5;Qur.ierfeit. tixy ail forfeited ; uvA what is it then that tho'd
JESrS THE BEST FPvTnXD OF MAX. 155
hast yet to boast of ? Come and set it before us, that we may
acknowleJiie our mistakes. Are the clothes upon thy back
(as hue as thou art) thy oavu ? Is the food that tl\ou eatest
paid for 1 And is tliis the creature that must be wooed with.
60 much earnestness 1 Behold, all ye inhai)itants of the
world, and admire ! Hear, 0 heavens ! this is that (I
want a name to call her by) who thinks it below her to be
matched with Christ, and aa undervaluing to be acquainted
%vith her Maker, and a shame to have God for her Father!
From the crown of tlie head to the sole of the foot, tliere is
nothing but w'ounds, and bruises, and putrefied sores ; and
nmning pla'j;ue-sorcs that are broken, ai% her greatest
beauty: and here's a thing to be beloved with all my heart!
JBzek. xvi. Whosoever thou art tliat readest these lines, this
was once thy condition ; in these ornaments he found thee ;
■when God came to ask thy heart, this was thy dress, though
tliou art thus highlj' advanced. And such were some of
j'ou; but ye are washed, but ye are cleansed.
And after all this, 0 sinner, art thou still as stout and
proud as ever? Is Christ so willing as bring thee to his Fa-
ther? Is he willing to clothe thee from head to foot with
glorious robes, such a dress as may become thee in the pre-
4<ence of a king? Doth he offer to lead thee in his hands
to his o\\Ti palace? Is God so willing and desirous to be
yuur Father, and Christ to be your Husband ? Are all the
jiiinisters of Christ so willing to do their utmost to biing this
jiiatcli to perfection? Sliall they li(> at you day and night,
to give your consent, and ti> be willing; and are you still
imwilling? Well, if all this signify little, and you miss
Christ at ]a«;t, and lie not acquainted with God after all,
remember it was your own doing.s, and that you thought
it greater wisdom to many the servant than tlie Master, to
obey the rebel rather than your loving Prince. Ilemenilier
you prefciTcd darkness before light, hell liufnre lieaven. I
cull he.'iven and eartii to record this day, that I liave set
life aiul death before you, and ynii stand as if it were so
diflicult a mutter to resolve which was the best. This
.Bounds strangely, and every one will bo ready to \vr'\ic fool
upon tluit UKiu'b forchwid that ucta thus. Hold, man, bu
ir-C HEAVEN tJl'ON EAnTIl ; OR,
not too ready to jmss thy censure before thou lookcst within
thee ! Dost thou see an absolute need of Christ 1 Dost
tliou adore his infinite love and kindness ? Dost thou give
up thyself to him for thy Lord, and receive him for better
for worse, come on it what will 1 Or dost thou not rather
spend thy thoughts, and let out thy affections upon the
t'anities and pleasures of this world 1 Dost thou not love
fatlier and mother, wife and children, brethren and sisters,
house and lands, more than him 1 Why, if this be the
case, I must say that thou art one of the fools that lovest
death and hatest life; tliou callest that folly in another
which in thyself thou countest wisdom. I Avonder who it
is that you strive to please all this while ! Is not the hand
cf Joab in all this ? Hath not Satan been deep in retarding
this match 1 Hath not he a design to marry thee to some
painted lust, though he undo thee for ever 1 And must he
be pleased rather than God 1 Is it more necessary to gratify
him that never yet intended to do any of the sons of Adam
any kindness, rather than their best friends 1 Come away
for shame, and let us lose our breath no longer; and let
that time we spend in pleading with you for God, be
spent in singing with you and praising God for you, and
congratulating your happy acquaintance witli God, and your
matching to his only Son.
20. But because man is so wedded to the world, and
dotes upon his lust, that all the arguments that we can use
are most commonly unsuccessful, I shall add one more upon
this sort of motives drawn from the qualifications of Him
whom I would fain have you acquainted with, and that
shall take in all that can be said on this head, and that is
this : Consider that he is altogether lovely ; he is made up of
love, goodness, and all excellencies ; and whatsoever plea-
sure, delight, and content you find in the creatiu-e, it is
trancendently in him. He is the Chiefest of ten tliousands.
Ask of tliem that by faith have seen him ; inquire of the
spouse in the Canticles, and ask her what is her Beloved
more than another beloved, what there is in God and
Christ moro than in the world ? and she will almost wonder
tliat any one that is rational should ask so foolish a question.
JEoUS TIIK BEST FHIEr^D OF SUN. 157
She thinks you might with as much judgment and reason
have asked what there is in lieaven more desirable than in
liell I wliat there is in case more tlian in torments ? in gold
aiul jewels more than in druss I in a living, healthful, beautiful
creature, more than in a stinking rotten carcass ] Did you
but see his face, you would soon think there were something
in him more than in another. Could you but see his eye,
your heart would be in a flame. Did you but understand what
it is to be brought into his banqueting-house, you would say-
that they arc neither fools nor madmen that can find in their
hearts to scorn the beauties and glories of this world in com-
parison of one look or smile from God ; and believe that his
love was better than wine, to be j)referred infinitely before
the greatest worldly pleasures, and think that the virgins had
reason enough to love him, Cant. i. 3. How high doth the
church run in his commendations ! How doth she endeav-
our to set him out to the life, that every one may admire his
excellencies, and be taken with his beauties, as well as her-
self! Neither doth she fear to lose liim by this, nor indeed
is unwilling that others should fall in love with him as well
as she, Cant. v. 9, &c. She liegins first with his face ; it is
white and ruddy, the most exact beauty; so that she must
be blind that is not taken with him ; and so she goes on as
well as she can to set hini out ; but he is so infinitely above
her commendations, that she wants words to exi)ress herself,
tiierefore she speaks one great one: "He is altogether lovely;"
and if you will not believe, come and see. Do but look upon
liim by faitii and meditation, contemplate his beauties, and
then, if you have anything yet to olijcct, if, after you have
had a true siglit of him, and have well weighed all, you do
not find that there is in him iniinitcly more than I can tell
you, why then let me Itear the blame for ever.
Well, now let us gather up all these things together; and
if a multitude of arguments, and if weight and reason, if
veliemence and eanu'stness may prevail, 1 should have some
good hopes that 1 sliould not want success in this work, nor
you of the acquaintance witli God and everlasting glory.
Therefore I .say again, if kindness and love i)e taking, who
«0 sweet and ohliging as he { If comfort, joy, and jdeasure
i.
be desiralile, ulio is there, when the soul is surrounded with
a multitude of perplexities, that can so much delight, refresh,
and raise it ? If power, glory, and majesty, if ability to de-
fend from injuries and revenge wrongs, might signify any-
thing with poor shiftless creatures, who is there that ever
yet prevailed against himi "Who ever contended with Ood,
and prospered 1 If vigour, activity, and care in all the affairs
of his friends, can entice the dull helpless sinner to receive
him, who will take more care for, and do more for them
than he ] If his humility may engage us ; if freedom of ac-
cess, notwithstanding that infinite distance that is between
us and him, signify anything as to the commending of him
to our aciiuaintance ; where can a poor beggar be more wel-
come than at the house of this mighty Prince 1 Can fiiith-
fulness in the greatest strait raise the esteem of a friend 1
Who ever yet trusted him that was deceived? Are riches
and wealth taking ] Who is there that can give a kingdom
for a portion, a love-token, and give everlasting glory and
heaven for a jointure, but God I Doth pity in misery, sym-
pathy in suffering, compassion in distress, endear and com-
mend a friend 1 who is more tender-hearted than he?
Are honours and preferments such great things 1 Who is
he who will make all his favourites kings and priests,
and set them upon thrones, and reward, and commend
them before the whole world 1 Is suitableness a considera-
ble qualification to make up this match ? Who so suitable
for the soul, a spirit, as God, a Spirit? Who can satisfy its
vast and infinite desires but Infinity itself? Have poor
simple creatures, that have quite undone themselves by their
folly and indiscretion, need of a wise counsellor, to wind
them out of their sad intricacies ? Who is there among the
profound politicians and grave sages of the world, to be com-
pared unto him ? Doth a dying man that hath a never-
dying soul, that is t > pass speedily into an eternal state.
lack an ever-dying and immortal Friend, that may stand him
in some stead, when all his relations are dead and rotten*
Is not God immortal? Are not friends sometimes farthest
off from one when one hath most need of them ? Is not he
then a Fiicnd highly to bo prized, who can, who will never
JESUS THE BEST PJiir.XD OF MAX. 159
be absent? Doth not God fill heaven and earth? What
think you of a soul-Friend ? Is not such a one worth the
looking after, who takes care that your soul shall not mis-
carry ? Who ever did more for souls than Christ ? Will it
not be true prudence to make sure of such a Friend as we
must have for our Friend, or we are miserable for ever ?
And where is such a one to be found but He that hath the
keys of heaven and hell l Wliich is most considerable, time,
or'eteruity ? And whom shall I most value ? him who pro-
miseth present pleasures, that are lost as soon as felt, or
Him who will l)estow everlasting favours I And are there
not at God's right hand pleasures for evermore? If the
trial and experience of so many milHons may speak his
commendation, will not all that ever knew God say. Truly,
God is good to Israel. Will God's willingness, desire, and
earnestness prevail with you to come to him ? What is the
substance of the whole Bible ? Doth not almost every chap-
ter speak the desire that God hath tol)e reconciled to man?
If the i>erfectioii of all excellencies meeting in one can ren-
der him amiable, how can He be slighted who is altogether
lovely ? And what say you now ? Are you resolved, or are
you iiot? Shall the infinite IMajesty of heaven condescend
to offer himself to be loved and embraced by sinful dust ?
Shall God say, I will be thy Father ! and shall not the sin-
ner say, I would l)e thy child ! Wliy should not the heart
of every apostate rebelli(jus traitor that hath forfeited estate,
life, and soul, leap r.t such good news, and say, Will God for
all this lay aside the controversy, antl conclude a peace i
Will he receive the rebel to mercy? Will he open his
doors to his prodigal ? And is there yet any liope ? Is it
possible that such sins as niine should be forgiven? Can it
be conceived that such a creature as I should be embraced ?
What! look upon me! Will Go<l indeed take me into fa-
vour ? Yes, thee ! Behold lie calls thee, he ofTcrs thee his
Son, a kingdom, a crown ; behold the Father nu'cts, lio
makes baste to meet his returning prodigal. Behold, tho
King hath sent to invite thee to the feast: nay, he will
give thee his only Son in marriage, the wedding-garment
U wade rtady, thu Bridegroom is coiuln";;, '-he v, hceb of ii.j
160 HEAVK-X CrOX EAlITil; OR,
cliariot run apace, the friends of the Bridegroom are come
to Ind you make ready: up, deck yourself, put on your glo-
rious apparel, make haste, make haste, ye virgins ; yom- com-
panions are ready ; all stay for you ; the Bridegroom is at
the door. Behold, he is at the door ; and Avill you still let
liim knock ? What ! Father, Ilushand, a kingdom ! What
words are these ? \Vilt thou, 0 mighty Jehovah, be ray
Father? Wilt thou, 0 blessed Jesus, be my Husband?
Shall I have a kingdom 1 What ! me a child, a spouse for
the King of glory, an heir of glory ! Grace ! Grace ! Amen !
Hallelujah! Be it to thy servants according to thy word!
But who are we, and what is our father's house, that thou
hast brought us hitlierto? And now, 0 Lord God, what
shall thy servant say unto thee? For we are silenced with
wonder, and must sit down ■\^ ith astonishment ; for we can-
not utter the least tittle of thy praises. What meaneth the
height of this strange love ? Oh ! that the God of heaven and
earth should condescend to enter into covenant with his dust,
and to take into his bosom the viperous brood, that have
often spit their venom in his face ! We are not worthy to
be as the handmaids, to wash the feet of the servants of our
Lord ; how much less to be thy sons and heirs, and to be
made partakers of all those blessed liberties and privileges
Avhich tliou hast settled upon us ! But for thy goodness'
sake, and according to thy own heart, hast thou done all
these great things, "f^veu so, Fatlier, because so it seemed
good in thy sight. Wherefore thou art great, 0 God, for
there is none like thcc, neither is there any God besides
tliee ; and wliat nation on earth is like thy people, whom
God went to redeem for a people to himself, and to make
him a name, and to do for them great things and terrible?
For thou hast coniirmed them to thyself, to be a people unto
thee for ever, and thou. Lord, art become their God. Wonder,
0 heavens, and be moved, 0 earth, at this great thing I For,
behold, the tabernacle of God is with men, and he will dwell
with them, and they shall be his people ; and God liimself shall
be withthem,and be their God." Be astonished andravished
with wonder ; for the iniinite breach is made up, the oflender
ia received, and God and man are reconciled, aud a covenant
JESrS THE BE?T I"RIE>fI) OP MAX. ICl
of peace entered, and heaven and earth are agreed upon the
terms, and liavo struck then- hands, and scaled the hiden-
tures ! 0 liappy conclusion ! 0 blessed conjunction ! Shall
the stars dwell with the dust ? or the wide-distant poles be
brought to mutual embraces and cohaliitation ? But here
the distance of the terms is infinitely greater. Rejoice, 0
angels! shout, 0 scraphims! 0 all the friends of the Bride-
groom and bride i-repare an epithalamium : lie ready with
the marriage-song ! Lo, here is the wonder of wonders !
For Jehovah hath betrothed liimself for ever to his hopeless
captives, and owns the marriage before all the world ; and is
become one with us, and Ave with him. lie hath bequeathed
to us the precious things of the earth beneath, with the ful-
ness thereof; and hath kept back nothing from us. And
now, 0 Lord, thou art that God, and thy words be true, and
thou liast i»romiscd this goodness unto thy servants, and
hast left us nothing to ask at thy hands, but Avhat thou
hast already freely gi-antcd. Only the word which thou
hast spoken concerning thy servants, estalilish it for ever,
and do as thou hast said, and let thy name be magnified for
ever, saying "The Lord of hosts, he is the God of Israel. Amen.
Hallelujah." And how do you like this music, 0 ye the
lost sons and daughters of Adam .' llow do you relish
these dainties ! Y»'hat do you think of this match i Some,
you see, have been so wise as, with the gi-catest gi-atitude
they can for their souls, to close with those happy oficrs of
grace. You hear how 1)ravely such and such have I)estowed
themselves, and now they are made for ever. And what
do you say to the same proposals? Have they so much
reiison to bless the day that ever such a motion was made?
Have they cause to rejoice for ever f(n' those bli'ssed over-
tures ? and are they all to be slighted by you ? Will Christ
be worse to you than them? Is heaven and liapi)iness less
necessary for you than them? Will the loss of a soul 1)0
more inconsideralile to you than it would liave been to them ]
Will not heaven, Christ, and glory, I)e as well worth your
aeceptance as theirs ? What, are you willing to be shut out
when the Bridegroom comes to fetch his spouse home?
Can you Itear it, to sec such a3 you thought your inferiors
162 kkAtkn' upo^• EAUTtt; or,
advanced, and j'ourself despised 1 What sliall I say 1 What
words shall I use 1 What shall I do to prevail 1 Oh that
I could pity you a thousand times more than I do ! Oh
that my eyes might weep in secret for thy folly ! Oh that
you also might do as some have done before you ! though,
indeed, they be but few that be so wise. Oh that you
would also bestow yoiu" heart upon Christ ! Give him your
heart-love, or he will have your heart-blood. Do not make
yourself miserable to please any living. Do not slight
Christ, because most do so ; go not Avith them to hell for com-
pany. But that, if it be possible, I might persuade you, I
shall add some more motives, to prevail with you to get
acquainted with God ; which, I am certain, will either work
those blessed effects, or rise up against you to the aggrava-
tion of your confusion, in tluit gi-eat and terrible day.
II. HEAD OP MOTIVES.
The next head of motives which I shall insist upon, for
the enforcing of this duty of acquainting yom-selves with
God, I shall take from the glorious effect of this acquain-
tance Avith God.
1. The first effect of this acquaintance with God is, that
it makes the soul humble, and consequently fits the soul for
greater communications from God still, and to do God the
greater service ; l)ut of that particular afterwards. Ac-
quaintance with God makes the soul humble. When God
comes into the soul, he brings such a glorious light along
with him, that he makes the soul to see, not only his beauty,
but its own deformity. " The entrance of thy words givetli
light : it giveth understanding to the simple," Ps. cxix. 130.
Before the soul was acquainted with the word of God, and
by that had some discoveries of God made to it out of the
word, why, it was in the dark, and saw nothing at all of its
own vileness ; it took no notice of that sink, that hell that
was within it, considered not its own treason against the Lord
of heaven and earth, and the dangerous hazards that it run
every moment upon that account ; but the soul thought very
well of its own state, it flattered itself in its own iniquity ;
the man thinks he is rich and increased in goods, and Iiath
jrsrs rnv. ee^t F:urNr> op man*. 1G3
need of iiotliing; hut when he comes to hjok into liis purse,
to open his treasury, aiul to tell over all his gold and silver
in the light, Nvhy then, he perceives a sad mistake: all
Ills silver is dross, and tlie best riches that he hath is but
dung. When the light comes in, he sees the darkness of
his understanding, the perverseness of his will, the disorder-
liness of his affections, the distemper of the whole soul. He
before took himself for a beautiful creature, but, by this light
and this glass, he sees his beauty is great deformity; he be-
holds heaps of lusts crawling up and down, which before lay
undiscerned, and then that man that reckoned himself so
happy, cries out, " Oh wretched man that I am, who shall
deliver me ? What shall I do to be siivcd I I am undone,
undone ! IIow shall I live I Where shall I dwell for ever?"
Time was that the man admired what the ministers ailed
to keep such a stir aliout sin, but now he wonders that they
are no more earnest in their preaching of it down. It was
a little while ago that he thought himself whole, but now
he feels himself sick to the very heart, wounded, feinting,
and ready to die ; he made full account that he was pure,
but now he cries out, Unclean, miclean ! It was not long
since he said with indignation. Am I blind also? But now
lie cries out, and will not be silenced. Have mercy upon me,
Jesus, thou Son of David, and grant that 1 may receive my
sight ! His language is much altered ; he cannot say. Was
ever such a sinner as I jjardoned I Will such a prodigal
ever 1)6 received ( Shall such foul offences as mine be for-
given? If God .should hjok upon me, and give me a Christ,
and pity me, and cast his skirts over me, while I lie in my
blood ; if the Lord should look njjon mo, it would be such
a wonder that all that ever heard of it may justly admire.
Now the man who thought himself the best of saints,
believes liimself as bad as the worst of sinners ! When a
man begins to be ae([uainted Avith God, he I)egins also to
know himself. He that saw no need of washing l)y Clirist,
would now have hands, feet, head, and heart, all washed.
He that thought himself sometimes far enough from liell,
now begins to wonder that lie di<l not fall into it; and
althougli there be a Bwect alteration in him for the better,
ICl HKAVEN rPONKAUTH; (ill,
and saints begin to deliglit very mnt-li in lilni, yet he
wonders that any one should see anythino; in him that
shoiikl cause any affection in them towards him, much more
to inflame their hearts in such vehement love to him ; if he
hear of any reproaches that are cast upon hira, he is ready
to say with that wise Stoic, Epictetus, " If he had known
me better, he would have spoken much worse of me." If
any praise him, he judgeth that it proceeds from their ig-
uorance of his weakness, rather than from any knowledge
of his worth ; and if he hear any such language, he is ready
to tremble for fear of his own lieart, and cries out, "Not unto
me, not unto me, but unto his name be the pi-aise : yet not
I, but Christ who dwelleth in me." Thus it is with one
that begins to have some saving knowledge of God ; and tlie
nearer he comes to God, the farther he goes from himself;
the more he sees of him and his righteousness, the less he
sees of his own ; the more he is exalted, the more he de-
baseth himself; like those four-and-twenty elders, he lays
his croAvn at the feet of God. Tlius it was with Job, when
God, as I may say, stood at a great distance from him : he
is ready to speak a little too highly ; he stands much upon
his own righteousness; he stitfly justifieth himself; but
when the holy God comes a little nearer to him, when he
throws off that dark cloud with which he has mantled him-
self, and when he caused that glorious brightness to break
forth upon Job, and made him see a glance of his holiness,
wisdom, and justice, then how is he even ashamed and
confounded witliin himself, that he should ever stand so
much upon his own justification! " I have heard of thee
by the hearing of the car ; but now mine eye seeth thee :
wherefore I abhor myself, and repent in dust and ashes,"
Job xlii. 5, 6. When he comes to be better acquainted with
God, how strangely is his note changed ; and I might say,
when he Avas thus abased, ho\v speedily doth God raise him
to a wonder ! A man may hear of God twenty years toge-
ther, and yet never abhor himself Avith dust and ashes,
never see any vileness that is in his nature, never be brought
off from his own righteousness, never admire that he is kept
out of hell! Oh, but wIumi he comes to see God, and to be
JESrS THE BFST FRIEXD OP MAX. IH/j
acquainted with him, how cloth ho cry out of himself as
unworthy to Ijreathe in tiie iiir, as deserving nothing but
Avrath ! Tlien he had not a word to say fur the goodness of
his own heart ; now he can say with astonishment, Gh infi-
nite jtatience ! Oh immeasurable goodness ! Oh the dejiths of
God's love! He must be merciful indeed that can pardon
such sins ! Tliat must be goodness indeed that can be so good
to me ! That is love with a witness, that can embrace such a
loathsome monster I What was it that made Aliraham call
himself dust and ashes] What made David say he was a
wcii-m and no man ? What made Isaiah speak so debasingly
of himself? Why, these were the friends of God ; they had
visions of that holy One. When is it that the people of
God are most ingenuous in their confessions? When do
they most freely pour out their souls before God 1 When
is it that they most readily open their sores, and desire that
they should be searched, but when this great Chirurgeon
comes to their chambers? Those who before were whole,
are now sick, full of piagiie-sores, head and heart sick, dan-
gerously sick, and no whole part in them ; they can say
more against themselves now than ever the minister could ;
they can aggravate their sins, and lay loads upon them-
selves ; and tliey .'^ce themselves vile, and even are ready to
wonder that the earth did not open and swallow tliem up
before this ; they admire that God should endure them so
long, and think it no small miracle that they were not
crushed in the egg, that they were not cast from the dark-
ness of the womb to the darkness of hell. Now they can
cry out of original sin, and the indisposition of their souls
to anything that is good, and inclination to that which is
bad. They say, as well as iJavid, that they were " born in
Bin, and in initpiity did their mother conceive them." They
think eventhing too good for them, all mercy on this side
everlasting misery. They count every bit tliey eat, and
every droj) they drink, more than they deserve. They think
themselves imworthy of the least of God's mercies, Gen.
xxxii. ]0, Others «a_)/ thanksgiving:;, but they /te' them;
others S'li/ ctjnfessions, but they J'td them. It is one thing
for a man to .speak of his own unworthiness, and another
IGG iii;avf.n upox eautii; en,
thing to lie imder tlie sense of it. Tlie heart and tongue
are two distinct members. The heart may speak tliat wliich
the tongue cannot utter, and tlie tongue may utter that
■\vhicli the heart never felt. But a man that is brought
into acquaintance with God speaks what he experiences, or
rather his experience is greater than what he speaks ; so
that he doth not dissemble with God when he confesseth
liis sin before him. They lay themselves as low as hell ;
this is hiimilit}'^, and this is an eft'ect of acquaintance Avitli
God. Hence it is that Paul saith of himself, " Unto me, who
am less than the least of all saints, is this grace given, that
I should preacli among the Gentiles the unsearchaljle riches
of Christ ; and to make all men see what is the fellowship,"
&c., Eph. iii. 8, &c. He wants words to express God's great-
ness, and his own smallness. Now, what was it that made
Paul sjieak and think thus of himself? There Avas a time
Avhen Paul would have spit in any one's face that should
have spoken as much against him as he did against himself.
What is it that hath wrought such a strange alteration in
tliis great Rablii, and made him so little? Why, this ac-
quaintance with God, the sight of Christ, was the thing that
laid this proud Pharisee in the dust, and made him blind
also. Mark this ; always the more heavenly any man is,
the more humble, Exod. iii. 11; 2 Sam. vii. 18. If I should
appeal to the experiences of saints, and ask them when they
had the lowest thoughts of themselves, would they not say,
Avhen they were nearest God? Now, would you walk hum-
bly, you must walk with your God ; would you see more of
your own deformity, why then, you must labour to see more
of his holiness, more of his beauty. Contraries set near one
another appear more visible.
2. Another excellent effect of acquaintance with God is,
that it will make a man fall upon sin in good earnest.
When the soul sees how infinitely good God is, it cannot
but see an unspeakable evil in sin, which is so directly con-
trary to him. When the soul hath really entered into a
league with God, it presently bids defiance to all his ene-
mies ; when he begins to be at peace with God, he presently
commenccth a war against his adversaries. Friendship
JESUS Tiin nrsT r;.iKNi) of jian. \C.7
with God makes enmity against Satun. Tliat wliiili for-
merly the man rolled under his tongue as a sweet morsel,
is now like gall and wornnvood to him. He that sometimes
did commit inicjuity with greediness can now say that it is
the gi-eatest folly and madness in the world ; he knows
that it is an evil and a hitter thing, as sweet as it tasted
when his palate was distemi>ered ; he that gloried in his
wickedness now accounts it the greatest shame in the world,
and hates the garments which are bespotted with the flesh,
which sometimes he took for beautiful raiments. The
burned child dreads the lire. Sin hath cost his friend dear,
and him dear too. The child cannot love that knife which
stab])ed his father. lie knows how sweet God is, and how
much he hates sin, and that if he would have God's com-
jiaiiy, he must bid an everlasting farewell to his dearest be-
loved sin ; and therefore, rather than he will offend so dear
a Friend, he will hew Agag in jiieces before the Lord ; be
will as soon cut off one hand with the other, and be pulled
liml) from lindj, as again draw liis sword against his cove-
nanted Friend, and again venture into the field in the
cause that sometimes he did so deeply engage body and soul
in. He that thought befoic that it was no great matter to
damn, curse, and tear; lail a trick of youth to whore, and
no hann to <lo what one had a mind to; to eat and drink,
and talk, and sleep as one lists, to give one's lusts whatso-
ever they called for; he that could once make a mock of sin,
and sleep securely u]ion the top of a mast, and thought it a
piece of gallantry to dare the Almighty, and was ready to
laugh at them who durst not be so ].rodigal of their souls
as himself; the case is now wonderfully altered with him :
he nuw sees the luirlot stript naked; be bidiolds how loath-
some the whore is, now her \K\\]\i is washed off; sin and hell
are alike to him; tem]>t him to folly, and he will soon answer
>in Joseph's language, "How shall I do this gi-eat wickedness,
and sin against God J" He that sometimes thought sin the
only pleasure, and looked upon the devil and the worlil as
the only friends, now sees his dangerous mistake, and bless-
eth God that his eyes are o])ened liefore he comes into another
world ; he knows now that holiness is the only pleasure, and
108 iiKAVKX rro:: rARTii; or,
<jO(1 is the only I'l'iciul, and sin and the world are as mortal
enemies as the devil himself; he believes that if he venture
upon sin, he must venture upon the displeasure of liis Friend,
whose favour he sets more store by than all the delights
tinder heaven, and whose loving-kindness he judgeth to be
better than life itself. When the soul is once acquainted
■with God, how strangely are its apprehensions of things
altered ! Now he calls things and persons hj their right
name ; good he calls good, and evil evil ; whereas before he.
called evil good, and good evil, and put light for darkness^
and darkness for light. He now believes that the zealous
compassionate ministers who spoke so much against sin, had
reason enough to have said ten times as much as they did;
lie sees that it was not for nothing tliat they were so earnest
Avith him ; he hath tasted the gall, wormwood, and poison
that is in sin ; he plainly sees what is the great makebait
between God and man ; lie hath now the wit to understand
what it is that hath kept good things so long from him.
Tell him now of a revel, a whore; he had as lief thou shouldst
persuade him to part with his strength and lilu'rty,and grind
in a mill ; he reckons you might as rationally desire him to
leap into a bottomless pit, to take up his everlasting lodging
in a bed of flames, and to make light of damnation. Let
men and devils use what arguments thej^ will to prevail
with him now to close with temptations, he is sure he hath
a stronger against tlieni; he hath a sensible argument within,
which will answer all. If they had ten thousand times as
many more than they can produce, the love of Christ makes
him abhor the motion ; God is my Friend dashes all. Shall
such a one as 1 lake up arms against God 1 Shall I that
have found him so infinitely good? shall I that have
experienced the faithfulness of this Friend to me, be so
infinitely imgrateful, as to be thus abominaljly unfaith-
ful to him"? Shall I that have forfeited my life and.
soul, and instead of hell have received heaven, instead
of damnation, salvation ; shall I, instead of thankfulness,
again rebel 1 Because the grace of God abounds, shall sin
abound 1 God forbid. To argue fi'om mercy to sin is the
devil's logic : to argue from mercy to duty is true Christian-
JESCS TUE BEST FKIEM) CP MAX. lU.')
ity. One that is acquainted Avitli God can expostulate the
case with his own soul, and say, "What meanest thou, 0 my
soul, to stand parleying with Satan ? Hast thou known
what that hath cost thee already? Look back to Eden.
Who was it that dispossessed thy grandfather of that brave
seat? What did Eve get by discoursing with such a chea-
ter I Have you not lost enough already, but you must be
venturing still ? Was it nothing for God, of a Friend, to be-
come a Stranger and Enemy I Was it so slight a matter to
lie divested of all that glory tliat once thou didst shine in,
that now again, after thou art brought into some favour,
thou must be tampering with that gamester who had liked
to have robbed thee of all? Art thou talking of re-
turning again into Egj'pt? What, hast thou so soon for-
gotten the iron and the clay 1 Is this all the thanks that
you give the Lord for his unspeakable mercy? Doth he
that hath done such things for you deserve no better at your
hands? Is tliis your kindness to your Friend? What was
it, 0 my soul, that that undone creature said unto thee (
Did he say. It is a little one, and thy soul shall live ? What,
did he ask a few merry hours, that I should spare myself,
that I should not be righteous overmuch ? Did he so ? A
sj)ccial friend ! I thank you for nothing ! And why didst
tliou not answer the tempter, as Solomon did Bathshel>a,
when slie asked a small tiling (as she thought) for Ailonijah?
" And why dost thou not ask the kingdom also ?" And why
did not Satan ask thee to part with heaven, and tliy inter-
est in Clu-ist, and those fevours? As the Lord livetli, as
small a request as thou thinkest his was, that word was
spoken against thy life, thy soul. A virtuous man, or as
the Stoic Antoninus calls him, " one tliat hat!i God for his
Friend, when temptations are presented, reaienil)i;rs w!io
lie is, and how he stands related to God, and how little
grateful such an action would ])e to his Friend." Andtlius
lio doth resist tlie tenqitation witli a great deal of gallantry,
when he reniembeiH liimself. Nay, sometimes temptations
to sin do make grace more to aliound : the water wliich was
intendeil to cool divine love, proves oil, and makes that noble
flame to burn more vehcnantly, Cant. viii. (j, 7. lie desires
170 HEAVEN UrO.\ EAUTII ; 015,
to exercise tliat grace which is contrary to the vice which
he is tempted to with more than ordinary vigour. He
stands hke a rock in the midst of the sea unshaken ; he is
steadfast and immoveable, like a pillar in the temple of his
God. He is much of the same mind, in that point, Avith
that brave heathen, who spake thus to himself when temp-
tation was strong : " Deliberate man ; yield not rashly ; 'tis a
great work that lies upon thy hands, 'tis a divine work, 'tis
for a kingdom, the kingdom of God." (Ar. Epict. 1. ii. c. 18.)
Now remember thy God, let 's see what thy love to thy God
is ; remember his presence ; he beholds how thou standest
deliberating whether thou shouldst fight for him or against
him. For shame ! show not thyself so basely disingenuous.
Remember what thy God, thy Friend, did for thee at such
and such a time. Remember how kindly you were enter-
tained by him the last time you were at his house. Whose
sword is it that you wear by your side ? Who gave you it 1
Did not God give it to you to fight against his enemies I
And will you draw it against himself ? Remember from
whence you had all that you do enjoy ; and can you find in
your heart to take God's mercies, gold, silver, and food, and
bestow them all upon that which he hates? Will you
quarter and keep in pay, with God's coin, his greatest enemy ?
And if you feel your heart still staggering, and scarce
able to keep its ground, then remember God stands by,
Christ looks on, and sees how gallantly any champion of liis
will demean himself on his quarrel ; and that there is not
a more lovely sight ujion tlie earth than to behold one of
his friends rather venturing his life than he will bear that
the least indignity or affi'ont should be put ujion his God ! Oh
happy are they that can always act as in the sight of God !
And if the soul can have but a constant fresh sense of its
relation to God and his eye, it is impossible but that it
should hate sin, which is so directly opposite to him.
Happy are those who by the thoughts of God are enraged
against sin ! Is it not enough, saith that heavenly soul that
is acquainted with God, that I have done such and such
things against God, when I knew him not, but that I should
again cnsage against him after I have been obliged by a,
JESUS TIIi; I}i;ST FKIK.VI) OF MAX. 171
thousand mercies, after I liavo tasted and seen how good the
Lord is I Is it a light matter that I did so long after light
against him then 'I And shall I noAV renew my rehellions,
■when I have had so much experience of the folly and mad-
ness of such a war, where I shall be as surely conquered as •
I draw ray sword? And hath God kejjt me bj^ a miracle of
mercy out of hell, and after I had nm out so wretchedly,
and undone myself, set me up again, after I had played the
prodigal, received me again into favour? And shall I after
all deal thus basely by him I No, I '11 die a thousand deaths
before I will willingly yield to anything that may be in the
least offensive to Him whom my soul hath such an intinite
reason to love above the whole world. The knowledge of
God's sei-vice, and Satan's too, makes a soul distinguish.
He that knows what it is to be made free by Christ, al)lu)rs
liis old master ; he rcmcmljers full well the great hardship
that he then underwent, when he had nothing to live upon
but husks; he calls to mind the clay and mortar, he can-
not forget the cruel vassalage that he served under; garlic
and onions were his dainties; and truly he cannot desire to
leave his manna for such kind of food ; he is not in love
with the whip and scourge ; he doth not dote upon the fet-
ters, or the iron which went into his soul ; but he is glad
with all his heart to be free from those taskmasters who
made him serve with rigour; he hath no mind tu irturn
to his old work. ]\ly meaning in all this is: he that was a
servant and a drudge of Satan's, and a slave to his lust,
when he once comes to taste the sweetness of siiiritual lib-
erty, to be made free by Christ, he hath no desire again to
be enslaved, but ilotli, with the greatest detestation, reject
all the proposjils and promises that the devil makes, to bring
this business about ; he knows Satan too well to love his
service; he reniendjcis that all bis j),"iy was jiromises, and
no more; he remembers that he fed him with ]>(iis.iii,
and made him <!() that which bad like to break his bones,
and undo him for ever; he sees what Satan's designs were;
and w liat had become of him quickly, if he had gone on
in his service ; he believes chains to be chains, though
U^vy Ic oi g'i!d; believes that puiLOji v.ill kill him, ihoui^h
lYB IIEAVKX UrOX EARTH ; OR, '
it may be sweet in the mouth; he liath now such a sensd
of the evil and baseness of sin, as being so infinitely loath-
some to God, that he hates it with a perfect hatred ; he
hath a will in some measure conformed to the will of God ;
and what liis Friend the Lord loves, he cannot hate, and
where his God hates he cannot love. " Do not I hate them,
0 Lord, that hate thee 1 and am not I grieved wth those
that rise up agamst thee 1 I hate them ^y\il\ perfect hatred ;
1 count them mine enemies," Ps. cxxxix. 21, 22. Now,
what is it that stirs the Psalmist's choler so much? Vfhy,
he had been working upon his own heart, in the former
part of the psalm, the doctrine of God's omniscience and
goodness, and liy meditation upon this subject, he was
brought under a lively sense of the greatness of divine kind-
ness ; and while his heart did thus muse, the fire burnt, his
soul was in a flame against sin : " How precious are thy
thoughts unto me, 0 God!" ver. 17. Oh, when the soul,
liath sweet thoughts of God, it will have sour thoughts of
sin. When the soul loves God dearly, it cannot choose but
hate sin entu-ely. None behold such deformity in sin as
those who behold most beauty in God. Hence it is that
some of the people of God have (nay all of them that are
really acquainted mth God are of the same mind) counted
it more desirable to leap into the flames than to venture upon
a knoAvn sin. It was no untruth in the absolute position,
though falsely applied by Job's friend, that it is a great
wickedness to choose the least sin before the greatest suffer-
ing, Job xxxvi. 21. What was it that made Paul so weary
of himself ? What ijurden was it that made his back to ache I
What pains causeth those bitter groans ? Rom. vii. Was it
not sin 1 And why did not Paul groan before as well as
then ? Was it because he then had no sin at all, or less sin
than when he made that bitter complaint ] No such matter ;
but because he had then less acquaintance with God. But
now he is become acquainted Avith God, the more he doth
abhor lumself for sin. He now knows better than he did ; his
eyes are opened, and he sees sin in its colours, and he looks
upon it as so great an evil that he doth want words to
express the odious nature of it; theiefore, becaus'j he can-
JESTTiJ T.'in nE?T t'r.lEXD 01" MAN'. 173
not find ii worse word, lie calls sin by its own name, sinful
sin ; wliicdi he thonght a more significant epithet than if ho
had called it devilish sin. What makes the children of
God to he so weary of this world, and so desirous to be
iipon the wing ? Why, it is because of better acquaintance
elsewhere. They know that then they shall put off that
carrion that now they carry about with them, sin I mean,
v.'hich, like a dead carcass bound to a living, doth now stink
so abominably in their nostrils ; they know that tlien they
shall have a sweeter smell, and themselves also smell more
savoury in the nostrils of God ; they know that poverty
shall be swallowed up with riches, want with fulness, sin
with holiness, misery with happiness ; they have an inheri-
tance, a city wherein dwelleth righteousness, and nothing that
is unclean shall enter into it ; and when they come thitlier
they know the case will be altered with them, and that
though now they bear about with them a body of death and
sin, yet then they shall have a body as pure, as bright,
and glorious as the sini ; thej' shall be presented by Christ
to the Father without spot or wrinkle, or any such thing.
Each knows that as long as he is thus sullied by his sin, his
great Friend will not take so much jilcasure in his company.
Isaac and Ishmael, the ark and dagon, God and sin cannot
dwell in the same heart; therefore he desires to have less of
sins (•omi>aiiy that he may have more of God's ; none of sin's
u-onipany, that he may have always God's company. Observe
that constantly in your ovm experience and others', those
who walk most close with (Jod are most tender as to the
matter of sin ; and those who are less in converse with God
are more bold in venturing ujion sin, and after it is com-
mitted they have less regret. What is the reason that one
cun swallow anything almost, and ;uioth('r is afraid of tlie
least apjieanince of evil I he hates the garment spotted with
the flesh ; he is as fearful of clothing himself with wicked-
ness as of putting on the garments of one that hath hail the
leprosy or j)lague upon him ; ho hates vain thoughts, because
he loves God and his laws, Ps. cxix. 104, 113.
3. Another glorious effect of acquaintance with God is,
tliat it makes one to have very low and undeiTaluing
174 ITEAVF.:) UPON EAUTU; 01!,
thoughts of the world. V> hen tlie sahit hatli been, with
Paul, raised up to the tliird lieaven, when he hatli had some
intimate converse with God, he can look the world into
almost nothing ; nay, if it stand in competition with Christ,
he counts it but as dung and dross in comparison of the
excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus his Lord, Pliil.
iii. 8 ; he can then set a liighcr value xipon the light of God's
countenance than upon corn, and wine, and oil. It is because
that i)Oor creatures know no better, that they dote so much
upon the world. Did thej' Init know what it is to have on©
look of love from G(jd, were they but acquainted with the
gloiy of another world, they would soon disrelish everything
else ; nothing vrill dovni \\'ith them who have been feasted
in God's house but those royal dainties. Taste tlie world who
will, saith the saint, give me but more grace, more of Christ's
company ; let me but maintain an intimate familiarity with
God ; let me be but better acquainted with him, and be
more frequently refreshed v.'ith his smiles; this is all tliat I
desire upon earth ; this is all that I expect to make my happi-
ness complete in heaven. " Whom have I in lieaven but thee ]
and there is none upon earth that I can desire besides thee."
It was not without good reason that the Psalmist prizes the
commands of God above gold and silver. It was no mistake
in Solomon to count wisdom more excellent than tlie
finest gold, and more precious than rubies. That spiritual
merchant knevv' what he did v,hen he sold all that he had
for that pearl of great price ; he was sm-e he should be no
loser by such a bargain. Bring me a heavenly creatm-e that
hath had a view by faith of the gloiy of God's countenance,
that hath been in his company, that hath been brought into
his banqueting-house ; such a one I am coniident can easily
spare that which most keep such a fearful stn about ; he can
spare the world for them who are Hke to have no better
portion. Give liim but more of those spiritual pleasures
wliicli he hath had in communion with God, and he desires no
more. lie can now speak it, and speak it in good earnest, that
there is no comparison between this world and another ; he
can now call this world a shadow, and the glory of it grass,
and ^n-ite vanity, emptiness, and vexation upon itg be-iiutiful
JESrS THE BEST miEXI) OF MAN. ITo
face, aiii-l contemu all its smiles and frowns, and look upon
its greatest lovers as persons that deserve to be pitied rather
than envied, whose portion is so small, whose happiness is
so short, and whose misery and mistake are so great and dis-
mal. It is a common thing for men to declaim against the
world, and to say it is but a little muck ; it is no unusual
thing for its gi-eatest lovers to speak against it, and say that
it is that which i>asseth away ; but yet for all that they
pursue it more than heaven, and are more earnest for it
than the salvation of their souls, and more troubled at tho
thought of parting v/ith it than at the thought of their
parting witli God ; and tlie loss of it troubles them more
than if we tell them of the loss of their souls. Such
as these will not say but that God is infinitely more
to be loved tlian the wliole world ; but yet if the world
and God stand in competition, they stand not long dis-
puting which must give place ; the world hath the upper-
most room in tlio heart. But whence is this mistake?
IIow comes tlie servant to ride, and the jMaster to go on
footi Why is the world preferred before God? Why,
hence it is man knows not God, he is not acquainted
with lus excellency ; the world is sensible, he sees it, he
feels it, he tastes it. And so he doth not the things that
are invisible. And no wonder, then, that sense bears
the sway; tlie man wants faith to realize invisil)les; he
wants senses s[iiritually exercised. But now ho that knows
God, and is acquainted with spiritual things, hath quite
another apprehension of the world ; and that not only
from faitli, l)ut sometimes from a spiritual sense, and he can
say that divine pleasures, riches, and enjoyments do as sen-
sibly refrcsli liim, yea, abundantly more than ever tho world
did. And when lie hath been newly tiikinga walk in tliat
heavenly jiaradiHc, he looks hack upon this world witli grief
and indignation, that he should ever love the world with his
heart, when there was One that did infinitely more deserve
his love, wlien there was a Gud, Christ, and holiness to be
loved ; tliat he should be such a cliild, sucli a fool as to run
after buttcrilics, quarrel f;)r a feather, liunt for a shadow,
while God, <'hnHt, i>.\-A gl iry, ih'.K great Mdntn.r.c."'-, lay by
17G . KEAVEN* t'foN' CAnf II ; ou.
inire_,nnk'(I. Xo\v he j^nuli^v::, tliat ;uiytliin;i,' tlioiud liaVJ*
liis love but his God ; Ids dearest relations, if they stand in
God's waj', must be run over, despised, hated. That whioli
the men of the world fight, and kill, and spare not to damn
their souls for, he sees now to be a pitiful worthless thing,
which cannot defer death a moment, nor stand him in any
stead in another world. He is all for that coin which will
go current in another country ; and if he be but rich in pro-
mises, rich in spiritual relations, rich in gi'ace, he takes him-
self for no unhappy man ; let the world speak or think what
they will of him, he doth not much pass upon it ; he be-
lieves that he is but a pilgi-im and stranger here, and if he
meet with no great kindness, it is but that which he exi^ected.
The truth of it is, he is almost afraid of the smiles of the
world, not being ignorant of this, that whom it kisses, it in-
tends to betray ; he cannot be over-fond of that which in
all probability will keep God and him at a greater dis-
tance, and make his passage to glory next to impossible.
He reckons that it is better being rich in grace than rich in
l^urse ; and that he avIio lays up for his body, and provides
not for his soul, is the greatest fool in the world. Tell such
a one as Moses of riches, honours, and preferments; he
thinks them but poor sorry things for a man of Israel to be
taken with, and he will rather see them in the dirt, than part
company with his suflt'ering brethren, much less with God.
It is storied of Anaxagoras, that he seemed to be veiy little
concerned when liis country was in a flame ; upon which,
being taxed hy some, he made this reply, " There is none of
you all care more for your country than I do for mine,"
pointing with his finger up to heaven. Thus it is Avith the
people of God ; let others talk of riches and honours ; but
there is none of them all do value true riches as tliey do.
But here is the difference : one thinks he hath riches when
he hath the command of a great deal of gold and silver ; the
other knows he hath riches when he hath Christ and
grace, and can have good returns out of that other world.
And which of these is the wisest will erelong be seen.
One looks upon heaven and glory as a shadow, a fable,
}\nd the things of this world as the only realities j the othey
JKSUG 7::r iii:..;T rrar:.D of ^:A^^ 177
looks upon heaven, God, and eternity, as the greatest reali-
ties, and most worthy of his highest vahiation, and the things
of this wurUl as flying sliadows, ■which cannot iill the arms
of him that doth embrace them. And under this apin-ehen-
eion and sense of things, no marvel that he doth prefer the
substance before the sliadow. lie believes with that wor-
thy, that he was born for other things than to eat and drink,
and sleej), or to take his pleasure, or to get an estate ; he
knows that the business in this world is to provide for an-
other, to get his peace made with God, to contemplate heaven,
and to get thither ; and therefore you must not count it
strange that such a person as this is somewhat cold and re-
miss in his carrying on of hnvcr designs ; he knows that the
di2ij)ropoi"tiun between finite ami infniite, time and eternity,
is no such inconsiderable one as the most count upon.
Again, he hath more tlian once exi)erienced this, that
the very joys and comforts that are to be had in the en-
joying of communion with God, even in this world, are
unspeakably more intense and refreshing than the highest
sensual pleasures in the world. One that is acquainted
with God will take the word of his Friend for true, which
word tells him that whatsoever is presented to his sense,
the world and all that is therein, must erelong be burnt
up ; whercui)on he thinks it no imjjrudence at all to hazard
present enjoyments for futiu-e hopes, no folly to look after
something that will bear the flame. He thinks it scarce
worth the wliile to be born to ])ossess, if it were a whole
world, except he were sure of having something after it that
were better than what he met with here; he had rather
liavc one smile from his Friend than thous.auils of gold and
silver; he would not for a world have his jiortiou here,
though it be never so large a one : lie had rather by far be
with Lazarus ujion adungliill thansitwith Dives in a chair of
state, Iieforc the richest fare tliat tlie sea, or air, or earth
could allord bini; he would not change coiulitions with
those wlio enjoy the most of tln^ things of this world ; ho
can thankfully want that wliicb most comnioidy makes its
possessors niiseraijie. Ob, could you I)ut talk with a man
that lives iu heaven w liilc he is upon cartli, and could you
178 HEAVEN UPON earth; or,
but see aiul licai- liow much he shghts that which you adore !
Give me neitlier poverty nor riches, but food convenient for
me, is the highest that he dare pray for. He had rather live
in a smoking cottage, and have God for liis companion, than
dwell in the greatest i)alace, and have the devil for his
neighbour, counsellor, and master. When a man hath been
in heaven by contemplation, though his body be upon the
earth, yet the l)est part of him, his affection, his love, joy,
and heart, is still there. " One that doth converse with God
here is indeed that earthly lump, his body is below; but
could yoii see his thoughts, could you look into his heart,
and see the inward actings of his soul, you should see the
man out of the world discoursing with. God ; he sticks close
to the company of his Friend : he is like the sunbeams, which,
though they reach the earth, yet still aljide there from
whence they are sent, and are most intensely hot nearest
the fountain, the sun." (Sen. Ep. xli.) So the soul and
thoughts of a child of God, they may, nay, they cannot but
glance upon the world ; but his most vigorous spiritual act-
ings are towards God, and the heat of his atfections are
abundantly more remiss and cold when they beat upon
earthly objects. He that knows what it is to have the com-
pany of God is almost ready to wonder how any one can be
content with anything belo^v God ; and as for himself, he
takes himself for little better than a i)risoner, while his soul
is pent up in a body ^\•hicll is so unwieldy as to all spiritual
employments, till it be refined by the grave. He would not
dwell here for ever, for a world, though he might enjoy
more content than ever any since the fall did. A soul ac-
quainted with God is a noble creature indeed; he scorns
petty low things ; he thinks no estate big enough for him, but
that which is inlinite ; he looks upon himself as a citizen of
no mean city, a denizen of Zion, a freeman of the New Je-
rusalem, one of the royal society, over which Christ, that
King of glory, is the President ; his inheritance is greater
than that which the sun compasseth in its com'sc. Oil
when, saith such a one, shall I leave these cities of Cabul,
and dwell with the King at Jerusalem? Oh when shall
my soul be safely at-ked i Vh when ijIuiH I be upon tlio
JESu^i Tin:; uest fkilnd of max, 179
wing for heaven ? Oh wlicn shall I k-ave this hoJy there
whence it first came ? "NN'hcn shall I go out of this cell, this
cage? Oh that I were once safe in heaven! Oh that I
were in the immediate presence of God, and might stand for
ever before him, and have his blessed society for ever and
ever! Neither am I quite without him ; but how little, oh
how little is it that I now enjoy ! Oh when shall I enter
into the possession of that better, longer life ? I stay and
long for that separating, or rather uniting liour, Avhich will
separate my soul from my body, from my dross, but per-
fectly unite me to God. Look then, 0 my soul, upon all
that thou secst l)elow but as so many inns and resting-
places for a pilgrim to take some little refreshment in, and
then to ]je gone. That day, 0 my fearful soul, which thou
sometimes fearest as my last, is the birthday of eternity.
Oh what mean we to love <mv ])risons, fetters, burdens?
Why are we so much pleased with our miseries, and afraid
of our happiness? Oh this unbelief ! Oh were Christians
hut more in the company of God by faith and meditation,
they would look uj'on God as great, and the world as a
very small thing, lie that knows God to be great, sees
everything below him little. It is an infallible argument
of a divine and excellent soul, and one that hath acquaint-
ance with God, when he can judge all beneath God as low,
b«;rdid, base, and utterly unworthy of the respect of his soul,
4. Another glorious elTect of acquaintance with Gotl is,
that it will ease us of ull sorrows, or cure all sorrows. As
Koon as any one hath but a saving knowledge of Christ, he is
in such a condition as that he need not trouble his head with
care, nor his heart with fear ; no more than a ricli heir that
hath a tender-hearted, loving, wise father, need trouldo
liimself what he shall do for bread and clothing: as long
as the great cause of fear is taken away, so long he is well
enough. As for those that are unacipiaiuted with God,
tiu'V either are always afraid, or have cause always to bo
afraid : but as for a child of God, that t;criptnre buoys up his
soul under the mightiest ways of fear: "There is no con-
<lemnation to them whieh are in (Jhrist Jesus," Koni. viii. 1.
lie that is in covenant with God may in this world uuder^y
ISO iiE.vvi:.\ c^o^• eaktu ; or,
some petty injuries, some insurrection maybe made against
him ; but this is his comfort, he is sure never to be quite
overpowered, never to be iinall^^ conquered. Oh the dis-
quietments and fears that strangers and enemies are com-
passed with, or will be ! And oh the joys, the security, the
true security that some have ! at Avliat a rate do they live,
and how bravely do they die ! " Mark the perfect, and be-
hold the upright man ; for the end of that man is peace."
This was touched upon before, when I opened the nature
and qualifications of this Friend, and therefore I need say
the less here ; yet it Ijeing the great inquiry of the wisest,
how they may l)e sheltered from this storm, what they
shall do to be cured of these heart-qualms, how they may
be freed from fears, I shall not altogetlier pass it over in
this place. I cannot but encourage poor strangers, as they
value the truest comforts, as they would be free from fear
and trembling when the foundations of the earth shall be
shaken, when the mountains shall tremble, and melt at the
presence of God, the mighty God of Jacob, when the hea-
ven shall be rolled together as a scroll, and be all of a
flame. Make sure of this Friend. It is impossible that one
that hath such a One for his Friend should be much daunt-
ed. When he hears of wars, and rumours of wars, when
the pestilence rages, when there are dreadful earthquakes
in sundry places, and such distress of nations and perplex-
ities, that the stoutest heart shall sink that hath not this to
support, then a child of God may lift up his head with
comfort, because his redemption draweth near. Tlicre is a
vast difference between a godly man and a wicked, as to
their atfections, fears, joys, desires, hopes. The godly
thinks long for that which the wicked wishes with all
liis heart might never be, — the day of judgment. The
righteous man is even delighted with the forethoughts of
that, the thoughts of which doth put a damp upon all the
comforts of the ungodly; he rejoiceth in that which makes
his neighbour tremble. As for death, a gracious heart that
hath kept his \vatch, and maintained a sweet and constant
correspondence witli God, and hath had his heart in heaven,
and can look upon tlic great Jehovah as his Friend, cannQt
JCSUS TflE BE3T FIUEiM) OF JIAJ:. 181
be very much aflVightcd at his approach ; he is not much
appalled, when he looks out at the window, and sees this
messenger making liaste to his house ; and when he knocks
at his door, he dares let him in, and can heartily bid him
welcome; he understands whence he comes, and what his
errand is ; and though he look somewhat grimly, yet as
long as he comes to conduct him to his Friend's house, he
can dispense with that : lie hath more reason to speak so
than he who said, "Let me make haste away to my
country ; there are my excellent ancestors, there dwell my
noble relations, there is the constant residence of my dearest
friends." (Plotinus.) "Oh happy will that day be when
I shall come into that glorious assembly, when I shall have
better company than Homer, Orpheus, Socrates, Cato, when
1 shall sit down with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, in the
j)alace of their P^riend and mine ! 0 happy day, when I shall
come to my Father's house, to that general assembly, the
church of the first-born, to an innumerable company of angels,
to Jesus, the Mediator of the new covenant, and to the spirits
of just men made perfect!" (TuU.) A man's knowledge
of other things may add to his fears, and make his miseries
greater; but the more knowledge we have of God, the less
our fears and sorrows must needs be: and when our know-
ledge <jf God is perfect, all our fears and smu'ows shall Ijc for
ever blown over. I cannot omit a brave speech of that noble
Stoic which comes to my mind : " If the acquaintance and
favour of Cicsar can keei) y(ni (as you are made to believe)
from some fears, how much rather to have God for your Fa-
ther and Friend ! How little cause have such to be afraid at
anytime of any thing; death itself is not evil tnafricMidof (bid :
he may say, Come, let us go ([uiekly to our Father's bouse;
our Father calls us." (Ar. Epict. 1. i. c. 7.) And doth this
."^eem a small matter to you? I'elieve it, when you come to
die, you will be of an(jthcr mind then: you will think that
it is a cordial worth any money, that will raise your sjiirits
at such a time, and make you, with a smiling countenance,
Jiass into an everlasting state. It is but a folly to expect
tiiat an\ tiling in tlie W(jrid sliould ilo this for us but the
knowledge of our iutervjt in G Md. It is possible indeed t-Q
e
182 IILAVEN Cl'OX EAIITII ; Oil,
pet some stiipifyiug- intoxicating stuff, that makes a man
die like a beast, Avithout any great horror ; the devil's shop
Avill furnish poor dying creatures -with enough of that ; nay,
he is glad if he can keep men asleep till death awaken them ;
but miserable is that man who is beholden to the devil for
his cordials ; miserable is he who has nothing to keep him
from a hell upon earth but his own ignorance and the
devil's word. I promise j'ou, 'tis none of the most joyful
spectacles to an enlightened soul, to look upon one that
lived wickedly and died peaceably. You would think that a
poor man that is going to execution had little cause to
smile, though he should ride to the gallows upon an easy-
going horse, or in a coach. The s\vine is usually very still,
when the butcher is making preparation to plunge the knife
in his throat. It is no unusual thing for a vile unsanc-
tified sinner to leap with a mad confidence into eternity;
but he alone hath a solid peace who hath God for his Friend.
This is the only man tliat hath just cause to sing for joy
when his soul is going into another world. It was none of
the worst counsel Avhich he gave, whosoever he was, who
said, that it doth highly concern us seriously to think of ter-
rible things, which we must most certainh^ see erelong, and
to lay in such provision as may make us fit to grapple with
them when they come. Oh for that which will keep us
from crying out hereafter, What shall I do ^ woe is me! I
am undone ! Were it so that there were such rare ex-
traction to be made as would certainly prolong our lives
as long as we Avould, and make us always cheerful, what
striving would there be to get such a receipt ! Oh, how
would the great ones bring out their bags to purchase it at
any rate ! How willing would they mortgage all their
hinds, part with their richest jewels to Imy it ! and yet how
little will they expend for that which, if they had, would
prove far more effectual ! Oh, wuukl men and women but
understand themselves, and mind their business, what sweet
lives might they lead ! what a calm might there be constantly
upon their spirits ! How cheerfully might they live, and
how joyfully might they die ! TuUy saith that he and
many otheis had been gatherhig the most powerful lierljg
JESCS TUB BEST TKinND OF MAN. 183
tliat they could find to cure all fears ; " but," saith he, " I
know not what is the mutter, the disease is still stronger
than the remedy." And dost thou not know, 0 Tully,
what's the matter? Why then, I will tell thee. One prin-
cipal ingredient was loft out, viz., laith in the blood of Christ,
and union with God by virtue of that blood. lie that is by
Clirist brought to be ac'(|uainted with God need not mucli
fear griefs, sorrows, and such tilings as Christ was acquainted
with for him: he luitli unstinged death, and sweetened the
grave : all his troubles are now but as physic, the poison of
them is corrected ; though the pill be bitter, yet it is of his
Friend's composing, and therefore he may take it without
any turning away of bis head. ''Show me a man," said
old Ei)ictetus, " that is happy truly in his life, and liap])y
in his death, happy in his health and in his sickness; happy
when poor, scurned. tormented, and banished ; in a wurd,
liappy in all conditions." Oh that I could but talk with such
a man ! Oh that I could see such a spectacle ! Such a one as
my eyes never yet beheld I AVliy, I will tell thee the reason
of it, 0 E]iictetus, it is because thou never sawest a Christian,
one that was ac(iuainted with God ; for let me tell the world,
through grace I have seen such a sight, and do believe it to
be the most lovely sight on this side heaven. I have seen
one smiling vv'lien his jaws have been falling, and eye-strings
breaking; rejoicing, when most about him were weeping,
jind accounting it a higli act of patience to Ijc willing to
live. And how do you like such a condition 1 Is it better
to lie tiuivering, .shaking, and groaning, or rejoicing, and
praising, and admiring free grace, and setting forth the
riches of God's love and goodness? Which of these would
you choose? lean easily Imlieve tliat few are so bad but
that they could be contented, a.s well as Bahiam, to die the
death of tlie righteous, and to have their latter end like his.
Butwould you die joyfully? Wby t]ien,youmubt live liolily;
get acipiainted with God, and then this may be your state.
I remember Seneca speaks of one Pacuvius, who, wlien he
was drunk, cried out, ''Be/5ajKa — I have been alive," very
merrily. But bad be well understood biniseit^ be would have
thought he liu'.l had much better reason to liave cried out,'' I
184
am dead, 1 am dead." Lut, Iiowever, what he said unground-
edly and wickedly, a child of God may easily and thankfully
say ; when he is going to his last sleep, he may with joy and
cheerfulness say, I have lived, and, through grace, I have kept
a fair correspondence with my God, my Friend, with whom
I am now going to dwell for ever. Do not think, therefore,
that I come to take away your comforts and joys, when I
come to persuade you to get acquaintance with God ; no
such matter, I would have you learn to rejoice, hut yet I
would that that joy should be born from above, that the founda-
tion of it should be the knowledge of your interest in God's
love. Other joys may make you have a smiling countenance,
but they do not raise and fill the soul ; for I must tell you,
I am far from thinking that every one that laughs is joyful
and Avithout fears, (iive me a man that knows that God is
his portion, and heaven his inheritance, that knows with
Avliat Friend, and in what a hai)py state he shall live after
death ; this, this is the cheerful man : such a one as this
can overlook momentary sorrows ; he imderstands full well
that the case will be quickly altered with him ; and the
thoughts of eternal happiness do swallow up his temporal
miseries. Tell one of God's acquaintance of poverty, he
values it not, as long as he knows he hath a brave estate that
cannot be confiscated, riches that none can take from him,
a treasure that thieves cannot break throiigh to, and steal.
As for all worldly things, he knows that Ijcfore a fe\.' years
are over he must part with them for ever ; he is of that
man's mind, who, having a considerable sum of money and
precious jewels hid in his saddle, and a little odd money in
his pocket, was set upon by thieves ; who readily went to his
pocket, and took what was there, and looked no further.
Now the man, escaping clear with his main treasure, is so
joyful that he takes no notice of what was stolen from him.
Thus a child of God, if he lose his estate, his liberty, and all
his outward enjoyments, counts all these but inconsiderable,
as long as his soul is safe, his great treasure is out of their
reach. Tell him of torments, racks, flames, or what the policy
of hell can invent, he is not ignorant of this, that the more
he suHers foj' Christ's sake, the greater cause he hath to re-
JKS^a TitK iJEST fntEXT) nr MAV. 185
joicc, to be cxcoi'din[;- i^lad, for gi-eat sliall ha Iiis reward in
lieaven^ and wliile they add to liis sufferings, thoy add to his
glory; and though against tlieir will, wliilo tliey would in-
jure ]xim, they do him the greatest kindness; this light
affliction works for him a far more exceeding and eternal
>veight of glory. As long as his torments want that dread-
ful epithet, eternal, he doth not much pass ; the thoughts of
God"s love makes man's hatred inconsiderable. Oh howsweet
are the thoughts of liis Friend, when his enemies are most
Litter ! Blessed be God, as for those intolerable torments,
lie knows it's beyond man's power, and far from God'swill to
inflict them uj)!)!! him, and so long he cares not much. All
other tortures are but a tlea-bitc to the pains of hell and
an enraged conscience ; he can almost dare the world and
the devil to do their worst, as being confident of this, that as
long as he is dear to God, his soul is out of their reach.
Threaten him with banishment, he remembers that he hath
a Friend that will find him out, and bear him company
wheresoever he is. Tell him of the barbarous unkindness
and treachery of former friends ; he reads that his betters
have been worse handled by their pretended friends ; above
all, this cheers him, to think that all his friends will not serve
him so ; he hath one Friend that will never forsake him, ne-
ver be unfaithful to him. Now, bring a wicked man upon
earth, that is without his sorrows ; I know there is none, no,
not one ; there is none of them all, 1)ut if he were within the
bight of those devouring flames, would tremble. Those that
liave wickedness enough to dare God, will not have courage
enough to look him in the face when he shall appear in
llaming fire to execute vengeance u\Hm the imgodly ; he that
will not now be troubled at the doing of wickedness, will be
troubled hereafter at the suffering for it. Let sinners say
what they will, I am sure they cannot be long without fears,
to behold Christ and his dear servants c(jming together in
the clouds, with millions of mighty angels, to judge tlie world;
I am confident it will be such an amazing sight as cannot
clioose but cool their courage, and make the stoutest heart
of them all to ache; I am S'Ure that as light as they mako
of damnation i\ml God's displeasure, that tlic day ia coming
18G iiKAVEX rroN eaetii ; or,
when they will believe it was no such cowardice to be afraid
of an angry God, to fly from the wrath to come, and to run
away from so formidable an enemy as sin ; so that it is clear
that a Avicked man vvill hrst or last be a fearful man ; a
'•Magor missakib — Fear on every side," shall be his name.
But now he that doth exceedingly fear to offend God need not
exceedingly fear anything else ; and he that fears not God
hath cause enough to fear everything. Oh sirs, it's a brave
thing to be aljle to take death cheerfuilj^ by the hand, and.
to \\ol\. with him joyfully into another world ; and this, I say
again, a man acquainted with God may do ; he hath this to
comfort him, death doth more properly give him life than take
it away from him, and as soon as he is dead his sin shall
die too, and his grace live and act without control ; then he
shall live a life of joy, a life of perfect holiness, such a life
as saints and angels live, such a life as Christ lives, the life
of God, a life without death, an everlasting life ; and why
then should lie be aft-aid of dying 1 As for his old companion
tJie body, it is gone to rest, and will erelong be awakened,
and rise from its bed more vigorous, and fit for those noble
employments in which it must Ije engaged for ever. And
soul and body shall meet with more comfort than now they
part with pain, when the body shall be in another kind of
dress than nov,- it wears, and that also shall in some respects
be like the soul, agile, holy, and immortal. This is such a man
that I can call happy, and so erelong will those that now
scornand persecute him call him too. Blessed is he that in his
life is holy and cheerful, but most cheerful and perfect at his
death. This is the happy poi-tion of God's acquaintance^
this is the heritage of the friends of the Bridegroom. I have
I'ead of a Avise man that would commend and be thankful
for everything, because he was sure a Friend of his had the
management of everytliing, whose imderstanding was infin-
ite, and whose wisdom was unsearchable, wlio could and
would work his own honour and his friends' comforts out
of everything, yea, though seemingly evil ; for the greater
the evil seems to be, the greater will be the real kindness
wliich makes so much good out of it. Oh, but I have lately
logt riiany of my most near and jjrecions relations ! If thou
JF.3US tut; best FSirXD OF MAX. 187
art one of (Joel's friend-;, lot me tell t'nee fur thy comfort,
you will meet them at your Friend's house, when you come
thither. It was no unsuitable advice that he gave to his
friend Lucilius, to cheer him up after the loss of a dear
friend : '' Let us considjr, my dear Lucilius, that we our-
selves should he glad to be in that place, and to enjoy that
company, which you are so sad that your friend is gone to ;
an<l he that you say is lost, is not so, but happy before you."
■\Ye do not judge rightly of things. Well then, would you
know what a man is ? A\'ould you pass a true estimate of
him, and understand his worth and value ? Why then, con-
sider the man without his riches, lay aside his honours, take
away all his externals from him ; nay, further, let us see the
mail naked out of Ids body, and h.ow doth the soul look 1 Is
it now rich, beautiful, joyful '. Can it stand confidently be-
fore God ? Doth it appear cheerfully in the presence of its
Maker? Why, this is something; it matters not much
whether his Iiody were fed with i>ulse or dainties, clothed
with rags or scarlet; it matters not whether his soul went
out of his movith or at a wound, whether he died in a bed
of d(jwn or in Hames. Mcthinks by this time you shoidd
be ready to think that religion is an excellent tldng, that
God's acquaintance is desirable, and that no life is like the
life of a Christian, all whose sorrows end in joys, whose mis-
eries make him more hai)py, whose shame for Christ will
make for his glory; in a word, whose death lirings him into
life. " This is the generation of them that seek thee, that
seek thy face, 0 Jacob."
r>. AuMther etiect ofacqiiaintance with God is, that it \vill
make us honour him more highly. Here familiarity is far
from l)rccding contempt. Those tliat are strangers to God
see not his worth and excellency, they honour him not, but
tlu'V have tlie most vile, low, contemptible thoughts of tiie
infinitely glorious majesty, and they think anything will
Ferv(? his tnrii ; they make more bidd witii him than they
would do witii a man like themselves ; they put him oil with
the leavings of the world; when they have been feeding
their lusts, and serving their jdeasurcs, and gratifying the
devil all the 'lay Ivug, tien they c.-nc between sleep and
18S ttEArnx rroN EAnTn; OR,
awake, and ].rctc;i(l a ;j,tc:ii deal (if love to hini, and anger
w itli themselves fur their sin, whereas God knows they do
but play the hypocrites in all they do, and mean nothing
that they say : lip-devotion, knee-religion God shall have,
and hut a little of that too, and that pitiful stuiF that
they present hinr with they think God is very much be-
holden to them for. As for the sanctifying the Lord God
in their hearts; as for inward heart-love, as for high priz-
ings and admi rings of God ; as for a real honouring of God,
and worshipping of him in spirit and in truth, it is that
which they understand not ; and as for those who do, they
laugh at them, as if they were guilty of the greatest folly
in tiie world. But now he who converseth with God beholds
such a beauty, excellency, majesty, and glory in him, that
it is ready quite to swallow up his soul ; he speaks much of
God, but yet he thinks more ; he wonders that a God of
such iniinite goodness should be no more loved, that a God
of such infinite greatness, justice, and holiness, should be no
more feared, that a God of such imspeakable power should
be no more obeyed ; and while he remembers his own con-
tempt of God in former times, and the too mean thoughts
that he hath at present of him, he doth even stand as-
tonished to think that he should be on this side the state of
the damned. He that before thought everything too much
for God, now thinks nothing enough for him. The man is
strangely changed by his new acquaintance, so that he may
not improperly be called a new man, all things are new
with him. In honour to this new guest, he hath got on
new clothes, he is clad with righteousness as with a garment ;
new food, it is his meat and drink to do the will of his
Father which is in heaven ; new drink, wine on the lees,
well relined ; he draws all out of those wells of consolation,
the promises : he hath new thoughts, words, and actions ;
God, invisibles, and all the things of faith are now substances
with him. Now the threats or promises of a God are not
counted small matters ; heaven, hell, and eternity, go for
the greatest realities, liecause God saith they are such. Sq,
he tiiat sometimes lived without God in the world, had no
respect at all to his glory, but valued himself and his most
JESUS TUE BEST FRIEND OF MAX, ISD
Iv'.sc lust, .111(1 the devil himself, before God, doth now re-
spect Hod's glory in all that he doth; he ventures upon
nothing deliberately, but what may please him ; religion
runs tlirough all he doth; he eats, he drinks, and sleeps,
and cloihes himself, he prays, he works, he recreates him-
self, \\iUi a design for God. The grand project he still is
carrying on, is the honour of God. lie will undertake
nothing of importance before he consult with his Friend
and hath his advice and direction. Whatsoever he hath
that is worth anything, lie sends it to this Friend, he pre-
sents him with his first fruits, he sacrificeth his male, the
best of his flock ; desires that his Friend may be always at
his house, and that he maj' have the best entertainment
that he can possibly give; and ho is ashamed at the best,
that he can make him no more welcome whom he so highly
honours ; he is grieved that his entertainment is no better ;
he would fain give God his first and last thoughts, his
warmest affections ; he would gladly have the strength and
vigour of body and soul spent in his service ; he studies how
to improve all mercies and enjoyments for God, to take hold
of all opportunities that he possibly can, and to make the
best of them for the promoting that gi-and design which he
liath on foot, his honour; he thinks not wife and children,
houses and lands, liody, soul, and all that he c;tn make in
the world, too good for him. Whatever temptations he con-
quers, whatsoever sin he slays, whatsoever piece of gallantry
or prowess he hath ilonc in his inroads upon Satan's kingdom,
he gives the honour of all to the valour, conduct, and assist-
ance of this liis nolile Ally and Friend. He sets the crown
of the King of Amnion, like Joab, ujion the head of this
King David. He hatli sucli a high esteem for God, that he
thinks nothing well done but wlun it is done exactly as
he would have it; he thinks e\ cry tiling then best, when it
is done according to God's will ; and he counts it no small
weakness to be unwilling that inlinite wisdom rather than
folly shonlil have tiie managing of all the attiiirs of the world.
He desires to maintain. Kjuick and lively sense of the divino
mujesty upon his soul, and that he may here and liereafter
give him, as hehuth infinite cause, all honour, glory, and praise,
N
190 HEAVEN urox EAr.TH ; OR,
6. Another effect of this ac(juaintance Avith God is this:
it would put abundance of life and vigour into the soul ; it
would, as it were, oil the wheels, and set them a-running.
There are none in the world that act at so liigh a rate as
those do who are most acquainted with God. Oh, how in-
defatigable are they in their pains ! With what earnestness
and faith do they pray, as if they saw the glorious God be-
fore them, and were talking with him ! With what rever-
ence, seriousness, and delight do tliey read, meditate, and
hear the word, and do all that they do! They know in
some measure what it is to present their bodies and souls as
a living sacrifice to God through Christ ; they understand
what it means to be fervent in spirit, serving the Lord,
^uch a man will not serve God with what cost him notliing ;
kneeling down, and saying a few formal words before God
in the evening, repeating the Lord's prayer, and the creed,
and the ten commandments, between sleeping and waking,
doing nobody any wrong, and the like, is not enough to
serve his turn ; his conscience will not be thus put off'; but
he labours with all his might to stir up his soul to lay hold
upon God ; he is not content to go off" from his knees with-
out his Father's blessing. This is the friend and acquaint-
ance of God ; this is the brave Israelite, that spiritual prince,
that will not let God go till he hath jirevailed with him.
He doth not go to his work as if he cared not whether he
worked or no ; he is not sick of the service of God, but he
rejoices and works righteoxisness ; his work is his pleasure,
and he goes on merrily with his business. Those that are
intimately acquainted with God are not so cold, faint, and
dull in the service of God as others be. Such a one as
knows God very well, and hath been oft made Avelcome by
him, why, he comes with a great deal of confidence, and
knocks at God's door, and, for his part, lie will not go away,
though the door be not presently opened ; but he continues
knocking, because he is sure that his Friend is within ; he
knows that he is never from home, and that he can never
come unseasonably to him. He comes to prayer as if he
were going to storm heaven, he gets spiritual things by
violence j he comes to duty as to fight for a crown j he is
JESCS THE BK?T FRIEXD OF MAN. 101
ashamed to oHer the lame and the hlind to God, hut lie
chooseth for him the best in liis flock; he desires to improve
his interest in God to the height; this favourite of heaven
comes frequently to the King to beg some great thing or
other; and he is sure that his Friend will deny him nothing
tliat it is not a greater kindness to deny than give ; lie
knows that his King hath a large purse, and as large a heart,
and he is not ^\•illing to lose such excellent things that are
to be had for the asking for; he is not ignorant that spiritual
tilings are worth the seeking for, and therefore he will seek,
and seek earnestly ; he hath tried more than once, and he
remembers to his joy, that wonderful things are to be had,
if we will but take pains for them, and prefer our petitions,
or rather get them preferred by that great Master of requests
the Lord Jesus Christ, and follow our business closely, that
it cannot possilily miscarry, let it be what it will ; the com-
fort in enjoying will abundantly pay all the charges we can
l)c at in seeking ; therefore he lays about him as one that is
in good earnest ; the confidence that he hath in the good
will of God, puts life into all his petitions. A jioor creature
that very rarely enjoys any communion with God, that is
very little or not at all acquainted with him, is ready to
take up witli a few formal compliincntal performances; he
is weary of his work before he hath well begun it; he is
quickly out of breath; but now, one that is very well ac-
f|uainted with God is not so ;;()oii weary of his company;
it may be, he may be somewhat cold when he sets out, but
when he hath gone a few turns with his Friend, his blood
grows waira ; he is sometimes so taken up with God in
duty, that he can .scarce tell when to have done. Oh, ho
thinks it is good being tliere ! Oh, it was a sweet sea.son!
Tiiese are the actings and experiences of some noble souls.
I liavc heard some Christians say, that Iiail not (Jod made
it their duty to follow tiicir c'll lings, they coukl be glad
with all tliiir hearts to do nothing else, day or night, but
hoar the niy.steries of God's love in Christ opened, read,
]:ray, meditate, and be immediately engaged in the service
of God! Sure .something is the matter with these persons
more than ordinary, that their palate should be so spiritual-
192 HEAVEN UPON EARTH ; 01?,
ized, as that it is their food, their wine, their dainties, to be
actually employed in the great acts of religion. The more
any one is acquainted with God, the more delight he takes
in the ordinances of God ; as one of God's children, he de-
sires the sincere milk of the word. Before he was acquainted
with God, he found it far otherwise ; then nothing almost
would down with him, the pure word could not he relished,
except it was adulterated with flourishes of human wit.
He had very little appetite to good wholesome food, his
stomach Avas ready to turn at it, except it were so cooked,
and sauced, and set out, that an imderstanding man could
scarce tell what to make of it. "What do you say to this,
you that are so faint and cold in what you do in tlie ser-
vice of God 1 Come a little nearer, get better acquainted
with God, and you shall find such entertainment from liim,
that you will scarce he pble to keep long from his house ;
get oft into his company, and you shall feel your soul
strengthened with new spirits, animated with a strange life,
heat, and warmth. You will not complain that the Sabbath
is the longest day in the week; you will not say, "What a
weariness IK it I when will the new mouns and sabbaths be
at an end?" But you would think long till the Salibath-
day come, and when it is come, the pleasure that you take
in the work of that day woiild make yon think it the shortest
day, and gone too soon : and when you have spent it in the
most diligent attendance upon God, you would wish it were
to begin again, or that you were to begin such a Sabbath
as would never have un end. This is the condition of one
that is very intimately acquainted with God ; his nearness to
his Master makes him follow his work, and he knows he
shall lose nothing by it; something will Le coming in ever
and anon, which wll more than quit his cost ; so that when
God calls, he is at hand, and readily answers, " Speak, Lord,
for thy servant heareth." When God hath any message,
any hot service to do, he accounts it his great honour to be
employed in it, and saith, " Here I am, send me." I believe
he that spoke it (Ar. Ep. 1. c. 9) might be a little confident,
when he said, " Lay what thou wilt upon me, 0 God, I have
power to btar it; it tluvU nut be my burden, but my orna
JESUS THE BEST PRIEXD OF MAN*. 19S
ment." Yet I am persuaded one that is acquainted with God
can say it, and say it again in good earnest, " Lord, what wilt
thou have me to do 1 Wilt thou have nie to preach for tiiee,
to run through fire and water for thee, to die for thee, to
go or come ? 0 Lord, do but bear me company, and give me
fctrength, and it shall be done. I can do all things through
Clu-ist that strengtheneth me." This is one of God's cham-
jiions ; he watches, he keeps upon his guard, he fights stoutly,
he stands his ground, in everything he demeans himself gal-
lantly, he quits himself like a soldier of Christ; and that
which makes him thus valiant, is because he is so near his
Captain. Ask P^pictetus what made Socrates do as he did,
and he will tell you, " It was because he was a friend of
God, his sei-vant, and partaker of his kingdom." (L. iii. c. 22.)
This is strange language from a heathen ; but had he known
what it was to live under the most lively sense of God's
love, to have had such intimate converse with him as some
Christians have had, what would he have said ? As for the
saint that keeps close to God, he keeps close to duty ; his
work is to serve, love, and praise God : this is his business,
both by himself and with othei-s.
7. Another exceilent effect of this acquaintance with God
is, it will make a man patient under all the dispensations of
God's providence, in all conditions to be content, in quiet-
ness to possess his spirit. Accpiaintance witli God will make
liim be at peace, not to open his mouth against Gud, what-
soever lie lays upon him. What was it that kept such a
calm in Paul's heart, when there was such a constant storm
wltliout him ? Was it not his sense of his interest in God's
love? Thoiigli ail tlie world were his enemies, yet as long
as Clirist was his Friend, he doth not care ; though men
and devils be against him, yet if God 1)e for him, he passeth
not much upon it: though men be never so nnjubt, yet
God will never be so, that's his comfort. It's a small mat-
ter for him to be judged with man's judgment, as long as
he is sure that God will acquit him; he knows that justice
itself will do liim no wrong, iMi'iuitc goodness could not be
unkind, and tliat wisdom itself could work glorious ettects
out of those things which the world call evil; if he do
194 HEAVEN UPON earth; or,
receive evil at the liands of God, he is confident he deserves
more ; if it be good, and but a little, he is thankful, because
he deserved none at all. Let the worst come to the worst,
if all the devils in hell, and all Satan's instruments upon earth
should combine against him, as long as he is sure of the
love of God, and that none of them all can pluck him out
of the arms of the Almighty, he is not very much concerned;
heaven will make amends for all : whatsoever he suffers,
it is nothing to the displeasure of a God, it is nothing to
everlasting burnings. He believes that if his persecutors
knew what he knows, they would as soon eat fire as do as
they do ; therefore he rather ])ities them than is angry with
them, as seeing that their day is coming. How seldom
have you either Paul or Silas complaining of their suffer-
ings ! how rarely bemoaning their condition ! And what
is it that makes them so patient? What have they to
sweeten such bitter draughts ? Why, God loves them ; and
so long, they do not much care though others hate them.
Man's frowns cannot sink a soul to hell, nor his favour
make one happy for ever. It is but a little while, and all
tears shall be Avipcd away from their eyes. The kindness
and faithfulness of God are enough to make a man hold up his
liead cheerfully when all the world is against him. When the
most spiritual Christians do complain, it is more of them-
selves than of their persecutors. Oh my unbelieving heart !
Oh that I should love God no more ! Oh that my heart
should be no more taken up with the great things of eternity !
This is the condition in which those that are most spiritual
are, in poverty, imprisonment, banishment, and all those
things which most call dreadful. When they come to a man
that is much in communion with God, they find him patient,
meek, and calm ; these are not the things wluch put him
upon the rack ; God is his Friend, and that answers all.
8. Another glorious effect of acquaintance Avith God is,
that it will make all our enjoyments doubly sweet. He
liath what he hath in love ; he need not be afraid of poison
in any of those dainties which come from liis dearest Friend's
table ; he may eat his meat witli a joyful heart, and not
tremble for fear of the reckoning at last; what he enjoys is
JESCS THE BEST FRIEND OP MAX, 195 .
freely given liim ; all his dishes luwe this brave sauce, they .
are seasoned with love, and come out of the hand of a
Father. He that is the great Proprietor hath given him
leave to use those things, and hath promised also to give
liim better things than these. He knows that this is not
his portion, that this is notliing to what he shall possess ;
it is no small comfort to him to think that he shall never
want anything that is needful for him ; or that if he be
brought into some exigencies, he hath a Friend that he can
go to when he will, and be heartily welcome ; he hath a
portion, an estate, in another countiy that can never be
spent, though he live at never so high a rate ; and the
more he spends upon it, the greater it is ; he hath a key to
that storehouse which can never be emptied, he hath an
interest in Him in whom all fulness doth dwell : his Friend
is noble, let him but " ask, and he shall have, seek, and he
shall find, knock, and it shall be opened unto him." God
is so free that he takes care of all his creatures ; yea, so
great is liis royal bounty, that it duth largely provide for
his enemies I And shall his friends, his children, starve ?
Hath he not fed them in ancient days ? When his people
were in the wilderness ho sent them their diet from his
own house, lie fed them with angels' food. Eut if this
should not be, if he kept them short, that maybe done with
as great kindness to them a.s the former: fasting may fatten
the soul more than feasting doth the body; and this makes
all welcome. K he have a great deal, he rejoiceth to think
that he shall have more still one day, if he have but a
little, he is satisfied ; and so his con<lition is made more
comfortable to him than the greatest enjoyments of the
wicked are to them.
9. .\iiother ett'ect of this acquaintance with God is, that it
will make a man wise. He that, liefore he was acquainted
with God, had not the wit to know liis friends from liis
foes, by his C(jnverse with God is made more wise than the
great sages and graml jiolilicians of tiie worbl. Upon liis
acquaintance with God, he is soon able to know right from
wrong, to distingvii>h lietwccn good and evil. He hath now
the wi.sdom tu look after the salvation of his soul, to seek
1D6 ■ flEAYEN UPON uarth; or,
the kingdom of heaven in the first place, and not to be
laughed and jeered into heU. He is so wise, that he doth
outwit the devil himself; he doth get so much wisdom by
his acquaintance with God, that God will reveal many of
his great secrets to him. I know one myself that was little
different from those who are commonly called naturals,
whom, when the Lord had wonderfully wrought upon, and
brought near to himself, after his converse and acquaintance
^vith God, his very natural understanding was exceedingly
refined, and afterward he became more discreet, and fit to
manage worldly affairs. But, however this be, I am sure
the knowledge of God gives understanding to the simple.
"A good understanding have they who love the Lord:
and the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom." Con-
verse with men of wisdom doth not a little improve a man :
but converse with tlie wise God makes a strange alteration
indeed, they are made wise unto salvation. Of such as these
David thought it best to make his privy council. These are
the persons that are the fittest to advise with in businesses
of the greatest importance in the world ; they have learned
the art of managing the affairs of greatest concernment with
the greatest care and prudence. I know the wise world
iisually looks upon such persons as the veriest fools living.
To converse with God, to take all possible care to make
their calling and election sure, to do wliat they can to be
happy for ever, passes with it for a riiliculous thing, and
inore than needs. But it is no great matter, they will
not be beat from the work thus ; tliey should be fools in-
deed, if such things as these should make them turn their
backs upon God ; they will not be jeered out of heaven, they
pass not upon man's censures. He is wise that God calls
so, and he will be found a fool whom God saith is so. As
for the man that is acquainted with God, all his actions
speak him a man of prudence, one that hath a deep reach
with him ; he is a man of an excellent foresight ; he sees
the clouds gathering a great way offj the storm before it
riseth, and he hides himself; in him are hid the treasures of
wisdom ; he makes no foolish choice ; he is a child of wis-
dom; he doth in some measure understand himself, and
JESUS THE BEST FRIEND OF MAX. 197
knows where his interest lies, and is faithful to it ; he makes
no foolish bargains, when he parts with dung for diamonds,
hrass for gold, earth for heaven, sin for holiness, present
short-lived pleasures for sure and everlasting delights, the
devil for God. How say you, ye mad gallants, that look
upon the saint as a fool, and religion as a ridiculous thing'?
Are these such foolish actings? Is it so indiscreet a choice
to prefer heaven before hell ? If this be to be a fool, I wish
I were more such a fool ; if this be so contemptible a thing,
oh that I may yet be more vile I Let me say further, as
gi-eat a folly as it is, there are none of you all hut erelong
will wish you had been such fools. A few years v/ill make
you all of another mind, when you see wliat those that you
counted fools have got, and what you with your wisdom
have lost; then let 'shear you calling them fools for choosing
Christ for their portion, and yourself wise for despising
liim, and choosing this present world for your portion.
Now, it is their l)eing acquainted with God that hath made
them thus wise ; time was that they were as very fools as
any in the world, till they fell into God's comimny, and
ever since that, they have acted with a great deal more
prudence: their being much in God's company hath much
imin-ovcd them. They may thank God for all that skill
that they have attained to, for he it is that taught them ;
lie is always at their elbow to direct them ; when they are
about to be cheated, lie whispers them in the ear, lets them
understand the fraud ; and when God speaks, they listen to
his C(jun.iel. It was no falsehood wliich Seneca spake (though
he understood not the meaning of this doctrine of recon-
ciliation) in the commendation of wisdom. "Wisdom,"
Baith he, "is a great, spacious thing; it instructs lis botli in
divine and human things, it teachcth a man how to demean
himself in relation to things past, present, and to come: it
informs him about tilings that are fading, and things that
ai-e lasting; and liy it he knows how to jiut a true estimate
and value on both : this leanis one the difference between
time and eternity." Thus far Seneca. Ihit wlicre is this
wisdom to lie found ? Not in Aristotle or Plato's writings:
the gnmd zutixims of this wisdom were little understood in
198 HEAVEN DPOX EARTH; OR,
tlie Peripatetic or Stoic schools; flesh and blood, human
Avisdom improved to the height, reveal not these things to
us. Where then is this wisdom to be found ? and where
is the place of understanding ? ]Man knows not the price
of it naturally. " The depth saith, It is not in me ; it cannot
be got for silver, &c. Destruction and death say, We have
heard the fame thereof with our ears." There is talk of
wisdom in hell ; there they can say what reports were made
to them of the excellencies of Christ, and how earnestly
they were offered to be instructed in the ways of wisdom.
But in hell there is no Avisdom, though a Avorld of them,
■which by their wisdom knew not God, be there. Where,
then, is wisdom? God understands the way of it, and he
teacheth man wisdom, and those that will come to him and
sid^mit to his instructions, may learn : the lesson is short,
yet learnt but by few. He tells man, that to fear and love
his Maker, and to be brought into union, friendship, and
acquaintance with God, that is wisdom ; and to depart from
iniquity, that is understanding, Job xxviii. 12, &c.
10. Another effect of this acquaintance with God is, it
will make a man rich. As soon as any one is acquainted
with God, he is set in a thriving way. I\lan at the iirst had
his estate in his own hands, and he kept up his trade for a
little time, and but for a little time ; for though his stock
was great, yet meeting with the serpent, that great cheater,
he was miserably oven-eached, and so sadly impaired in his
spiritual estate, that he broke presently; and had not Jesus
Christ stepped in and bailed him, and been his Surety, he
would soon have had all his creditors upon his back, and
have l^een laid up in that dismal prison, till he should have
paid the utmost farthing; but through the kindness of
Christ, the grand Creditor had patience, and offers to make
xq) tile business, and to compound upon better terms than
the sinner could possibly expect. Christ undertakes to heal
the infinite breach, to bring God and man acquainted, and
to set him up again in case he will but accept of the gracious
terms of agreement ; and thus undone man, that was before
in a beggarly condition, upon his return to God, is set in a
better way than ever; God, liis Friend, now takes such order
JESC8 THE BEST FKIEXD OP MAX. 109
for him, that he shall be sure never to break again ; he will
be his Casli-kceper, he Avill have the ovei-sight of all, he will
teach him such an art, that he shall be sure to get by every-
thing that he trades in; he shall gain by his losses, grow
rich by his poverty, and drive the best trade, it may be, when
lie is forced to shut his shop-doors, I mean in a time of
violent persecution. Whatsoever losses or crosses come, he
is sure he shall never be undone as long as his Friend hath
so great a bank ; he hath a key, and he can go to an infinite
treasury when he pleaseth, and fetch out supplies for any
exigencies or occasions ; and when all those that made such
a great show in the world, and that were taken for mer-
chants that were exceeding well to pass, shall be proclaimed
bankrupts, and be found not worth a farthing, and be car-
ried to prison for debt, then he hath money in his purse,
coin that will go current in any country. In the meantime,
though he be thuught to be worth nothing, to drive but a
pitiful poor trade, yet, when he comes to die, and when an
exact inventory is taken of all that he is worth, he is found
worth thousands: and no wonder, when he hath such a
Partner, who will be sure to see that his business shall be
managed to the best advantage, and that he shall never be
out of purse : upon this account, the man cannot choose but
thrive ; he will have something to show for his gains, when
others have nothing. When the rich ones of the world
shall be begging a drop of water, he is at the fountain. If
you would t;ik(! a survey of that man's estate that is ac-
quainted with God, you must lift up your eyes to those
everlasting hills, you must look east, west, north, and south;
all this is his, things present, and things to come; mount
up to the top of Carmel ; your sight is too short, you see not
tlie Iniudrcdtli part of his inheritance ; all this is nothing:
he hath a brave estate in another country ; he is rich in
bills and bond'^; when he comes to age, he will have no
man know what falls to him. And whence hath he all this
Jvealth / Hath lie not got every penny of it since he was
ac(iuainted with God? But I shall bo but brief upon this
liead, because I have handled what miglit have fallen in
here before ; Init the world laughs when 1 speak at this rate,
200 HEAVEN UPON EARTH; OR,
and tliinks that I am much mistaken. Godly men rich !
That's strange! What, rich, Avith scarcely clotlies to their
back I rich, and fare so hardly ! rich, and possess nothing!
This is strange wealth. I grant it is ; it is so, fur their estate
is in invisibles ; it is not he that possesseth much, but he
that wants little, that is rich. Will you call nothing riches
but gold and silver, and houses and lands 1 Are virtue, grace,
holiness, no riches 1 And will you call these little because
he hath not so much trouble and vexation with his estate
as some have 1 Are heaven, glory, the everlasting enjoyment
of God nothing? Is the possessing that which is more
worth than a thousand worlds, no riches ? If to have all
things that are good for them ; if to have more than their
hearts can conceive ; if to be filled with all spiritual plenty
be counted poverty ; let me be thus poor, rather than enjoy
the revenue of all the princes and great ones of the world.
And what do you think of this, you that are worth never a
penny 1 Are you desirous to have a great estate ? You that
go backward, and get nothing, would you be set in such a
way as that you may be sure never to oreak 1 Why then,
get acquainted with God, and you cannot but grow rich.
11. Another glorious effect of acquaintance with God is,
that it makes a man like God, which is the top of the crea-
ture's honour. Company is of an assimilating nature. He
that before was unholy, and like the devil, by conversion to
God, and converse with him, is made holy like God. He
that before was cruel, fiery, unmerciful, by his acquaintance
with God is made kind, meek, and lovely. He that in
his natm'al state was a nonconformist to the laws of his
Maker, when he is well studied in this point, is the stiffest
conformist; he sticks close to the righteous canons of the
holy God, and will not by his good will turn to the right
hand or to the left. He that was sometimes very unlike
God, when he is brought nigh unto him, his countenance is
changed, his featm-es are altered, and the lineaments of
God's image appear very lively in his face ; and the more he
is in God's company, and the older he grows, the more he
gTows hkc him. Oh how doth such a one shine ! What a
majesty, glory, and beauty i» there m his face ! The oftener
JESU^ TIIK BEST FlUKXD OP MAJV, 201
he comes to God, the more he is taken with his excellency,
the more he labours to imitate him. He studies what God
is ; and as far as his nature is capable of it in this life, he
desires to be like him. If God be true and faithful, he dare
not be false, but ho will hate the way of lying; if God be
free and bountiful, he thinks it verj' ill becomes one of his
children to hide his face fi-om his own flesh, to shut up his
bowels, to be void of natural affection. If jjurity be so emi-
nent in God, he knows that imi)urity would not be com-
mendable in himself. In a word, he desires in eveiything
to carry himself as one whose highest ambition is to speak,
act, and think as one that would be like God. It was
bravely spoken of him, (Sen. Ep. xxxvii.,) especially if we
consider wliat the man was, who told his friend that called
him to heaven, in compendivm, " To get as much happiness
as this place, this soul, while in this body, is capable of;
that is, to get God for his Friend, to be like him." This is
a short cut to glory, a soul carried to heaven, or heaven
brought down to the soul. A full antl perfect conformity
and likeness to God is the very glory of glory ; and a par-
tial conformity to him upon earth is an unspeakable honour
in this life. Oh, were men and women l)etter accpiainted with
God, they would sparkle and shine in their generation, so
that their enemies should be forced to say that a saint is
another kind of creature than a sensual sinner. Oh, why
stand you then so far oli' from God ? Come nearer him, and
the rays of his glorious image will reflect from your lives.
Be acquainted with him, and you shall l)e like hiui; keep
much in his compjuiy by faith, secret prayer, and medita-
tion, and yuu will be more holy, divine, and spiritual.
12. The last effect of thisac(iuaintancc with God which I
shall name is this, it will make a man better, far more ex-
cellent in all states and relations; all his friends will h;ivo
the better life with him, the whole family, it may be, where
he dwells, will fare the better for him. If he l)e a child, ho
is mon^ dutiful to his jiarents thau he was wliile he was
unacciuaiutcd with (iod. If lie be a servant, lie i.s more
diligent ami faithful than before ; he serves not with eye-
bervice, but iloth what he doth with singleness of heart, as
202 HEAVEN UPON EARTH ; OR,
unto the Lord. If he be a master, it makes him more
exemplary, and makes him take care that his household
should serve the Lord ; he had rather his servants should
make bold with him than God, he is concerned for the hon-
our of God in his family, as much as liis own. If he be a
father, he is careful to bring up his children for God ; he is
more spiritual in his affections to them, and desirous to
leave them God for their Father, Friend, Portion. As he is
a neighbour, he follows peace with all men, and holiness,
because he hath seen God. How sweet and amiable doth
acquaintance with God make a man ! how ready to heal
divisions ! how full of goodness and charity ! how ready
to do good unto all, but especially to those that be of the
household of faith ! how compassionate and tender-hearted !
how ready to provoke others to love and good works : so
tliat the whole parish lives the quieter, all the poor fare the
better, all the neighbourhood, some way or other, is behold-
en to him. One tliat knows God himself doth what he can
to get others acquainted with God too. How sweetly doth
he commend the way of wisdom ! With what earnestness
and pity doth he plead with sinners, and labour to teach
transgressors the paths of God, that sinners may l)e con-
verted unto him ! How doth he set l^efore them the neces-
sity of a cliange, the danger of their present state, and the
excellent qualities of this Friend tliat he would bring them
acquainted with ; telling them that time was that he also
■v\as as they are, and thought his condition as safe as they do
theirs ; but that it pleased the Lord by his word to open liis
eyes, and to reveal to him the need that he had of Christ, and
to enable him to accept of him, and to prize him above the
whole world. In all conditions and relations, he commends
religion, and shows that godliness, where it is in the power
and life of it, is a brave thing, which makes so great an
alteration in a man for the better. If he be sick, he rejoiceth,
and thinks cheerfully of death, the grave, and eternity ; and
in this state demeans himself so, that standers-by cannot
but be convinced of the reality of invisibles, and to think,
surely there is something more tlian ordinary in acquaintance
A\ith God, which makes men so undaunted, and with m
JESUS THS BEST FRIEND OF MAN. 203
iniicli gallantry to meet death ; surely their condition is bet-
ter than ours, or else they could never be so joyful at such
a time as this is. Then he tells of the use of a Christ, the
benefit of a Kedeemer in a dying hour, and how infinitely
it is for their interest in time to provide for eternity. If
he be well, he desires to improve his health for God, and to
serve his Maker with the strength of body and soul. If he
be poor, he shows a pattern of patience, meekness, thank-
fulness, and lets the world understand that godliness with
content is great gain ; if he be rich, he desires to be rich in
good works also, and to trade with such trifles as gold and
silver, for rich commodities, as grace, peace, and glory, with
the things of this world for the things of another; to lay up
fur himself treasure which neither moth can corrupt, nor
thieves break through and steal, and to make to himself a
friend of the imrighteous mammon ; to be a faithful steward
of those talents that his great Lord and Master hath com-
mitted to his trust: he shows how great a good it is to 1)e
great and good too. This is the man who doth adorn tlie
Gospel; this is the Christian who doth credit his profcssicm;
this it is to be intimately acquainted with God! Oh how
useful might men ami women be in their generations, were
they but more in God's company ! Oh what a savour would
there be of their graces in the place where they live ! How
would poor cnaturiv'-, that receive good by their holy coun-
sels and suita])le lives, bless God for the day that ever they
were born, and adore that goodness whicli lirought them
near sucii and such a one, liy whose means God hath brought
them out of the vassalage and captivity of Satan, and by
■whose help they have got acquainted with a Friend that is
moro worth to them than a world ; for one that hath God
for his Friend cannot but desire that others also should
have an interest in biiu ; ho knows how ill it will go with
them that know not (iod, and tliis makes him do what
he can to bring God and man acquainted; he would
make those that are good better, and those that are bad
good? If those that he convcises with, or stands related
to, are enemies, he lets thena know that a Christian can
love them dearly whose sin he hates entirely, and that a
204 HEAVEN UPON EARTH ; OR,
child of God can pity them that have no pity at all for him.
I might add, how oft are a great many wicked ones spared
fi'om temporal judgments, for the sake of the righteous
that are amongst them.
III. HEAD OF MOTIVES.
The next head of motives to enforce this exiiortation
might be taken from the danger of not being acquainted
with Grod. If you could live securely without God, and be
in a safe condition though you still remained a stranger to
him, the business then were not so very considerable ; if you
could find any in heaven that could do as much for you as
God can, I should not be so earnest with you to get an in-
terest in his favour ; if you could by any means possible be
everlastingly happy any other way ; if without this Friend
get to heaven, and without liis alliance avoid utter ruin, I
should have had the less reason to use so much importunity;
I might then possibly have spared myself the trouble of
speaking these things, and you the trouble of hearing them.
But when I see and know that it is as much as your life
and soul are worth, to slight and undervalue the motions
that I am now making to you in Clirist's stead, how can I
with any faithfulness and love to yoiu" souls hold my peace?
How can I stand looking upon men and women that are
about to murder their own souls, and forbear crying out?
How can I endure seeing poor creatures nmning with all tlie
speed they can to that dismal place from whence there is
no redemption, and not endeavour to stop them? Would
you have me so cruel to your souls, as not to tell that which
doth infinitely concern their well-being? for, let me tell
you, God will not stand neuter ; he will be either for you
or against you ; he is the Lord of hosts, and he will fight on
one side or other. Now, see to your matters, as the nature
of them doth require. What do you think of having a God
against you ? If God be against you, who will be for you ?
"Tlierc is no peace, saith my God, to the wicked." The
safest condition you can bo in, while God is your enemy, is
sadly hazardous ; such a one hangs by a twined thread over
everlasting llame^; he stands upon the brink of that bot-
JESUS THE BEST FRtEXD OF MAN', 205
tomless pit, and one shove, one slip, sends liim going fur
ever; he stands \ipon a pinnacle, which one little blast may
blow him off and then v>-here is the man to all eternity?
If he fall thence, there is no rising again ; if he once go into
that other world, there is no recovery of liim, if one would
give a world to bring him back again. I say it again, if
God be not your Friend, he will be yom- enemy: and what
do you think of such an enemy ? It is but a word, a look
and they fall. Let me tell you, that except you speedily
humble vourselves, vou shall iind that we do not make the
danger greater than it is : " according to his fear, so is his
wrath." You may know soon enough to your cost, what the
displeasure of a God is, how dreadful his arrows, how sharp
his sword. Not a man of them shall escape that will not
accept of peace upon his terms, and that quickly too. Oh
that will be a sad day, when God shall say, " Bring them
out and slay them before my face." If God be your enemy,
who do you tliink will be your friend ? To which of the
saints and angels will you fl}' ] Where will you go for
shelter against the storm of that terrible One I What ar-
mour will defend you against the dint of his weapons?
What in the world can stand that man in any stead that
hath such an adversary, especially when he comes to give
his dehnitive sentence against him for high treason ? Dives
may say, Father; and Abmham, Son : but what comfort, for
all that, had the miserable child from his holy father?
Doth he not, instead of cooling liis tongue with a drop of
water, lay more burning coals upon it, and if it be possible,
make the heat of it greater ? " 8<jn, remember that thou in
i]iy lifetime hadst thy good things." Thus Abraham, by
])utting him in mind what his condition was, makes him with
the greater sorrow to feel what it is. The memory of former
joys under present sorrows makes them sting the more.
Well then, if you would not hereafter rellect witii an aching
lieart upon your lost enjoyments, think with a serious ami
thankful heart of the jiresent otters, that you inny in eternity
reflect with joy ujjon your short sorrows in time. If you
will not be ac(iLainteil with God, you shall be acquainted
with the devil, and know whose company is best by wofuli
o
£06 HEATEN uPOX EARTH ; OK,
experience. If yoii will not believe his word, you shall feel
his sword. If liis kindness and goodness will not melt you,
his power and justice shall break you ; for he that now is so
patient will erelong roar like a lion, and tear in pieces,
and there shall be none to deliver; he will break his stub-
born enemies with a rod of iron, and dash them in pieces
like a potter's vessel. Those that will not know his love
shall know something else ; I will not say what, for it is
inexpressible. But only this remember: it is such a God
that you will have to deal with, before whom the mountains
quake, and the hills remove out of their places, before whom
'the great tyrants of the world have fallen ; and shall you
stand? Where are all those giants? Where are the inha-
bitants of the old world"? What is become of Nimrod, that
mighty hunter, and all his fellows ? Where are all those
daring sinners that scorned to accept of a pardon, mercy, and
• peace, and that had the coiu'age to grapple with Omnii^otency
itself? Who got the day ? AVho had the Avorst of it at last ?
And art thou stronger than they ? Is thy power greater,
thy understanding deeper, thy allies more considerable
than theirs? A fly may be too hard for Pharaoh; but
•Pharaoh can never be too hard for God. .Because judgment
is not speedily executed against thee, thou thinkest there-
fore, it may be, it is because God cannot deal with thee, and
■ upon this account thy heart is fully set in thee to do wick-
edly ; but know thou, for all this, that God will bring tliee
•to judgment. Consider this, that as fair as it seems to be
■ now, the winds may rise, the clouds may gather of a sudden,
the heavens may be overcast iii a moment ; and what will
you do then? When heaven and earth shall be in a flame,
then you will be scraping acquaintance with God ; then
' you will be glad to be owned by him ; then you would will-
•ingly Christ should take notice of j-ou, and say, " You blessed
■ of my Father ;" then you will stand at the door and knock,
-and cry, and pray, and plead, and say, "Lord, Lord, have I
not been oft at tliy house? have I not eat at thy table,
-and taught in thy name in our streets?" And yet thou
shalt be dismissed with this short and sharp answer, "De-
part, I know you not," IIow do you like such an answer
JESUS THE Br.?T FKirXD OP MAX. 207
8S this is? How \vill j-ou take it, when you stand begging
at the door for one crumb of mercy, one drop of Christ's
blood, ti) be sent away with a bitter scorn and denial, or
else to be answered with silence? Whereas you were in-
vited to the feast as well as those that went in, and you
Would not licar, though God sent messenger after messenger
to fetch you ; you thought your oxen better company than
your Clod ; you took more pleasure in your dogs than in
the hunting after those nobler things. What do you think
of such expostulations as these? What replies can you
make to these accusations ? Erelong you will thid these
things realities ; erelong all your friends will be dead and
gone ; and if they would help you, they cannot ; your estate
will be consumed, your houses will all be burnt ; all your
attendants, except care and fear, will shortly forsake you;
your gold and silver will not erelong be worth a rush ; and
■what will you do then ? nay, the greatest friends that you
liad will become your enemies. Little do you tliink, as
kind as they seem to be, what your good fellows, the world
and the devil, will do against you. Little do you think how
false your fi-icnds will prove when it conus to that, that
they see that all is going. Then tliey also will helj) for-
ward your ruin. Those that you durst have trusted your
life with, will accuse you and help to cast you. Those who
t-ncouraged to sin will witness against you for sin ; your
good fellows, your confederates in wickedness, your dear
friends, that you loved more than God, that you did not
spare to venture your life and soul for; oh! it will make
your heart ache to see such come in against you, whom you
thought loved you so dearly ! Oh ! to have a wife, a child, a
liusband, an old friend, to come before the Judge, and to
make known such things as you hoi)ed had been Ijuried for
ever ! It will make your ears tingle, to hear one crying out,
Lord, if it had not been for him, 1 had turned and repented ;
it's owing to him that I am in this woful condition ; I was
resolved many a time and oft to seek after anotlier world,
and to provide for my soul, but he would not let me alone ;
when I began to be serious, he laughed and jeered me, and
would never beat fjuiet till he had made mc aa bud an liiniself ;
208 . HEAVEN UPON EARTH ; OR,
he carried me from the alehouse to the tavern, from thence
to a playhouse, from a playhouse to a whorehouse, from
thence to the liighway, from thence to the gaol, from the gaol
to the gallows, and from thence I came liither ; and I may
thank him for all this. Oh how will men look when they
see the hest friends that they had come in thus against
them ! This 'tis to trust to faithless friends ; this 'tis to
make light of acquaintance with God. Your gold and sil-
ver will be a witness against you, and will eat your flesh as
with a canker; your children, relations good and bad, will
speak bitter things against you ; your own family will curse
you, and say, Lord, we never heard anything of God, except
in an oath, from his mouth ; we never heard anything of re-
ligion, except it were in derision of it, inhis family; and those
of us that were a little serious, and began to think of our souls,
he would snub and browbeat, and never give us a kind look
till we did as he did. Nay, the devil, who now doth so much
flatter sinners, and make them beheve that he is so much their
friend, will then show himself; he will then be as cruel as
he now seems kind ; he that now tempts to sin so impetuously,
will hereafter accuse for sin violently, and torment for siu
immercifuUy. The people of God, who weep over sinners,
and pi-ay for them, and Avish them well Avith their souls,
will then see justice executed upon their nearest relations
without the least sorrow ; nay, they also will come in against
them too, and say, Lord, I told them of this woful day. O
Lord, thou knowest I forewarned them of that which is now
come to pass, I pleaded with them with all the compassion
that I could, and they scorned my pity, they would not
pity themselves, but made light of that glory which they
are going from, and of that hell they are going to ; and now,
0 Lord, thou art just and righteous, that thou hast thus
judged them. This will be the language of those that are
your best friends; the people of God will be your ene-
mies one day, if you will not now mind the making of
your peace with God ; they must and will be on God's side
against all the world ; they must and will take part with
their Friend, and clear Ixim when he judges, and justify him
when he condemns you. Oil that you who are now strangers to
JE3DS THK BEST PRIEXD OF MAX. 209
God would Init consider of these tilings ! Oh that you would
but think what this battle may be, where the combatants
are so unequal ! Stand still, 0 sun, in the valley of Ajalon,
till the Lord have avenged him of his enemies ! Muster
yourselves, 0 ye stars, and light in your courses against
those miserable sinners that have waged a war against
their ]Maker ; plant your mighty cannons, shoot down huge
hailstones, arrows of tire, and hot thunderbolts ! Oh ! how
do the wounded fall ! How many are the slain of the Lord,
multitudes in the Valley of Decision, for the day of the Lord
is terrible. Behold God's enemies falling by thousands, be-
hold the garments rolling in bluod, hear the prancing of his
terrible ones, the mountains are covered with horses and
chariots of fire. God's soldiers iiin from one place to an-
other with their flaming swords in their hands, armed with
the justice of God, jealousy, power, and indignation ! Oh
the dreadful slaughter that is made ! IMillions, millions fall ;
they are not able to stand ; not one of them can lift up his
hand ; their hearts fail them ; paleness and trembling hath
seized upon the stoutest of them all. The bow of the Lord is
strong : from the blood of the slain, from the fat of the mighty,
the bow of the Lord turneth not back, the sword of the Al-
mighty returns not empty. How do the mighty ones fall in
the midst of this battle ! A hot battle indeed, in which none
escape ! AVho is he that cometh from Edom, with dyed gar-
ments from Bozrali ? He that is glorious in his apparel, and
travelling in the greatness of his strength, the Lord of hosts is
his name. "Wlicrefore art thou red in thya]iparel,and thygar-
nients like him that treadetli the wine-fat? 1 have ti-odden the
winepress alone, and of the peoj)le there was none vnth me.
For I will tread them in mine anger, and trample them in my
fun,', ami their bluod shall be sprinkled upon my garments,
and I will stain all my raiment ; for the day of vengeance is
in my heart, and the year of my redemption is come. And
I will tread down the ])cople in mine anger, and make them
drunk in my fury; and 1 will bring down their strength to
the earth : the liand of the Lord shall be kno^vn, the power
of the mi'^hty Jehovah shall be felt, and his indignation to-
wards his enemi','S. For behold he will come with fire and
210 HEAVEN UPON EAUT II ; OK,
with chariots like a whirlwind, to render his anger witli
fury, and his rebuke with flames of fire : for by fire and'
by his sword will he plead with aU flesh: and the slain of
the Lord shall be many, and the saints shall go forth and
look upon the carcasses of the men that have transgressed
against me. For their A\orm shall not die, neither shall
their fire be quenched, and they shall be an abhorrhig unto
all flesh. Upon the wicked he shall rain snares, fire, and
brimstone, and a horvil)le tempest. Tliis shall be the por-
tion of their cup ! Tbis it is to fight against God ! Tliis it
is to defy the Lord of hosts ! This it is to refuse a peace that
would have been so unspeakably advantageous ! To speak
a little plainer, this is all that sinners are like to get by
their standing it out against the tenders of grace and mercy.
And are you still desirous to engage in tliis di-eadful war ]
Will you still bid defiance to the xilmighty, and make no-
thing of such things as you have heard of? Is the loss of
your blood, the loss of yom- soul, your utter undoing for
ever, no great matter vnih you ? Well then, go on, bold
sinnei-, arm thyself cap-a-pie, gird thy sword upon thy
tliigh, get thy shield and buckler ready, prepare to meet thy
God. Go up, 0 thou valiant warrior, and let's see thy valour,
behold thy enemy hath taken the field ; go up and look thy
God in the face if thou dai-est ; come, show tbyself a mark
for God, and turn not thy back like a coward, venture upon
the mouth of the cannon. Rusli upon the tliick bosses of
God's buckler, if you long to perisli everlastingly. You
have heard wliat the war will cost you ; and as you like it
now, do. And what, do you laugh at all this ? Well, then,
go on, but be it upon your peril, your blood be upon your
o\\'n soul. As for me I could not have said much more
than I have to dissuade you from this desperate enterprise ;
I foresee what a case you will bo in, when you are in
the heat of the battle, and I desire to weep in secret for
thee, as one that will most certainly be undone, if thou dost
not speedily alter thy mind ; wherefore my loins are filled
with pain, pangs have taken hold upon me as the pangs of
a woman that travailleth, I am bowed down at the thoughts
of thy misery, I am dismayed at the seeing of thy destruc-
JEStJS THE BEST FKIEND OF MAX. 211
tion. The sinner ventures fur all this ! He is marched
into the field! Set a watchman; let him declare what he
seeth. Who meets that furious wretch? A lion, a lion
roareth ; he is torn in pieces, and none can save him ; he is
gone, he is gone ! He is gone for ever ! And who may the
madman thank for all this? Who could help it? He
would venture, though ho was told as much. Well then,
see what's like to liefuU the enemies of God. You hear
what is like to l)e the condition of all them that will not be
acquainted with God. First or last, you likewise may be-
hold what a case you yourself shall be in ere it be long,
except you do speedily repent of your folly, and meet your
adversary in the way, and humble yourself before the mighty
Jehovah. Speak quickly ! What will you do ? Turn, or
burn ; repent, or die ! Yet you do but hear, you do not
feel ; but thousands and millions feel what the displeasure
of God is, what the breach of his covenant is, and what
the effects of a war with the Lord of hosts are. Oh, be
wise by their falls ; let their destruction be your instruction ;
take heed what you do, lest you be the next that God shall
deal with as an enemy. As yet God offers to be friends
with you ; but wliether God will do as much to-morrow as
he doth to-day, I do not know. I tell you but so ; it is hard
putting it to the venture. Remember you had large proffers
of grace and pardon made to you ; God hath sent us to let
you know his will and pleasure, and we demand of you
from him to give us your answer speedily. And what, can-»
not you yet resolve ? Is it so difficult a business to deter-
mine what to fix upon ? 0 foolish people and unwise ! 0
unspeakable madness ! How just must their condemnation
needs l)e, who are offered salvation so often, and refuse it !
who arc so oft told of damnation, anil yet run into it I in a
word, who might have God for their Friend, and had rather
liave him for their Enemy !
4. The next heail of motives by which I miglit enforce
this duty of acquaintance witli God, may l)e taken from
the examples of them who made all the friends they can get
acf]uainted with God. Behold a cloud of witnesses, who
(lo all with one consent bpeak high in the commendation of
212 HEAVEN UPON EAltTU ; OR,
till' friend whom I am persuading you all that I can to
be acquainted with. Are you wise' than all your neighbours?
is the ignorant objection of some that would take it very
heinously if we should call them fools, when we put them
upon a serious diligence in pursuit of the best things. Why,
let me retort this objection upon themselves. Are you
wiser than Enoch and Noah 1 Have you more understand-
ing than Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob ? Have you more wit
than David? Are you wiser than Heman, Daniel, and
many others of those brave worthies who were the wonders
of the world, the nonsuches of their age, and a pattern to
future generations? This was the greatest piece of their
wisdom, to walk with God ; tliis was the best of their policy,
to get so potent an Ally ; this spake them to be men of a
deeper reach and a larger understanding than others, be-
cause they made it their business to get acquainted with
God, and thus to make their interest as large as heaven,
and their peace and prosperity as sure as the oath of a God
could make it. Do you think that all these men were
mistaken ? Did their %\'isdom lie only in a prudent manage-
ment of their worldly affairs to the best advantage 1 What,
then, did they mean, some of them, by leaving all that they
had so cheerfully upon the command of God ? Dare you
Bay that they prized the favour of God at too high a rate ?
As for their parts, they thought they could not value such
a friend as God too much. What else was the meaning of
their longing, panting, and breathing after him? Why
else are they so glad of his comimny, his presence ? How
loath were they to do anything that might be in the least
displeasing to him ! What bitter moans did they make, if
he did but withdraw a while, if he did but a little absent
himself from them ! How wonderfully desirous were they
of enjoying communion with him ! How earnest to live in
his house for ever ! Dare you say that they were all fools
and madmen fur refusing the embraces of this present world,
for sUghting its smiles, and undervaluing its gi'catest kind-
nesses, and choosing that favour of God, though with the
scorns and reproaches of the world, rather than to hazard
Iiis anger, whose wrath burns to the bottom of hell? B^^
JEStrS THE BEST FRIEND OF MAX. 213
hold, what a glorious company, as these stand upon i\Iount
Zlon with harps in their hands, -with those hundred
and' forty and four thousand, and the Lamb, with an in-
numcraljle multitude of all nations, people, and languages !
Why, all these were uf the friends and acquaintances
of God, or else they had never had those crowns, robes,
and palms in their hands. Now, why should not our souls
be as dear to us as theirs were to them 1 Will not heaven
be as good for us as them ? Is it not as needful for
us to get a Friend of God, as themi Will not God do as
much for us as them, if we will but do as they did, walk
with him ? The truth of it is, the number of them who are
saved is but few, in comparison of the multitudes of them
who know not God, and go the broad way ; yet, for all that,
take them absolutely, they are abundance ; so many that
the Scripture saith they are innumerable. Do but read over
the history of some of their lives, turn over the holy records,
look sometimes into those sacred chronicles, and behold how
cheerfully they served God, how actively they followed the
Lamb wheresoever he went, through thick and thin. Hear
what their language is now they arc got home safe, now
Christ hath brought them to glory, and they are at their
Friend's house. What do they talk of ? What is their dis-
course about I Do they complain what a sad journey they
liad of it through a howling wilderness, after they had passed
the Red Sea, through a thousand sorrows and trials? Do
they say, now they are at their journey's end, that they
are weary, and wish they had never taken so long and tedi-
ous a journey 1 Do they not rather speak the quite contrary,
ami that if it were to go again, they would do it with far
more speed and cheerfulness than they did ? Listen ! hark !
methinks I hear them from tlie walls of the new .Jerusalem
crying out, Come away, come away; fall on bravely; follow
your business gallantly )nit a little while longer, and the
city is your own ; futcli y.uir scaling-ladders, run up apace,
iiiDUnt the ramparts, fear notliing, though the devil play his
artillery upon you; yet it is but powder; lie shall never
give you a mortal wound; resist him and lu- will fly, and
tiie field is yours; tlie spoil, the crown, the honour will pay
214 HEAVEN UPON earth; 01?,
for your pains, blood, and danger. Fall on, brave soiils, fall
on; the more valiant you be, the more safe you are. Me-
thinks I hear those noble saints encouraging you to get ac-
quaintance with God, and saying to you that are yet afar
off. Come near. Come away, poor souls, come away ; what
do you mean thus to delay ? Oh, little do you think what
a Friend we now lind of God ; it was but a little, a very
little that was told us of the excellency of Christ and the
glories of this place, to what we experience ; it Avas no false
report that we heard, when we w^ere upon earth, of the hap-
piness of heaven. Oh ! here is a prize worth the running for ;
a kingdom, a crown worth the lighting for, an estate worth
the looking after. We have not now our stint ; we are not
dieted with those spiritual dainties ; we have not now and
then a sip, a draught, a bit in a corner, but we are at the
fountain, we are daily feasted with infinite pleasures, our
hearts are full, brim-full, they run over, we swim in an
ocean of spiritual enjoyments ; these things are beyond your
capacity now to understand. Were we to live upon earth
again, and did we know what we do now know, we should
ever pine with our earnest longing for God, the living
God, to be in his immediate presence, and to be at that
angelical work of praising, serving, and loving him for ever.
Wherefore, brethren, let us encourage one another. " Come,
let us go up to the house of the Lord ; his dwelling is in
Salem, his palace is upon Moimt Zion." Why should not
we go on as merrily in the paths of wisdom, as the wicked
in the road of hell? How do the devil's champions en-
courage and hearten one another up ! How do they laugh,
sing, and roar, as if their life were the only life ! For shame !
let's tell them they lie in their teeth. Who have the best
company, they or we 1 The patriarchs and prophets, the
apostles and thousands of martyrs are gone singing before ;
some of our dear relations, fathers, brethren, and sisters, are
newly welcomed by Christ to his Father's house ; and they
are blessing that rich mercy that hath conducted them to
such a place, to such a Friend. We have many thousands
of saints militant that are going along with us as fast as
they can, and God himself will bear u§ company ; and why
JESUS THE BEST FRIEXP OF MAX. 215
do we yet linger ? Oh that we were upon the wing ! Oh
that our souls were like the chariots of Aminadab ! Oh that
the Lord would strentrthen poor short-winded creatures ! Oh
that we could run and not be weary, and walk and not faint !
Oh that we might have now and then a hearty meal, and
that in the strength of them we could travel to the mount
of God ! Oh that that acquaintance might now be happilj'
begun, wliicii may never have an cud I Oh that God would
visit us oft, and get into our heai-ts ! Oh that lie that gave
those wortbies in former times so much grace, would pour
out of the same gi-ace in abundance upon our souls 1 Oh
that he would shed abroad his love in our hearts ! Oh that
we could maintain a constant intercourse with him here,
till we came to a perfect enjoyment of him in glory here-
after ! Oh that we may see tRy face, thy blessed face, by
fiiith ! Oh that thou wouldst cause thy glory to pass before
us ! Oh tliat thy marvellous loving-kindness might be
made known to a company of poor creatures of us, whose
desire is to fear thee, who would fain love thee with the
strength of our souls ! Oh blessed are they that love thee,
that are l)clovcd l)y thee !
5. I miglit also insist upon another head of motives, which
is named in the text, which is this : " Acquaint now thyself
with him, and thou shalt be at peace." Though there be
notliing but war on every side, you shall have peace. This
]>eace of God, whatsoever you may think of it, is unspeak-
aldy advantageous ; the benefits that would accrue to a soul
upon tliis ])cace are infinite. It is a peace that passeth all
understanding. When we have this peace concluded, we
may drive a brave trade, without disturbance, for the richest
commodities. If we are thus acquainted with God, we
shall have such a peace as that we may laugh at the shak-
ing of the spear, and not be much disturljed when we hear
of dreadful things abroad in the world. He that is ac-
quainted with God may safely venture up and down, he
hath God's pas.s, a strong man-of-war for his convoy; he
hath such powerful allies, that he need not fear; as long
as he is at peace with God, he is sure not to be quite over-
pome by man. lie is at peace with liimself ; when the air
216 HEAVEN Ul'ON EARTH; OK,
echoes with drums and trumpets, and the roaring of guns, a
music that pleaseth the devil's ear, he may still rejoice,
because he hath a bird within, which sings sweetly ; there
is a harmony between his will and God's, a harmony be-
tween his heart and his mouth. This is no such contemp-
tible thing ; and if you knew what a wounded spirit, a fire
in the bosom is, you would say so. This peace that such
a one hath, is a well-grounded peace ; not such a peace as
is built upon ignorance and hardness of heart, but such a
one as results from the sense of the pardon of sin, and recon-
ciliation with God, through the blood of Clirist : that blood of
Christ hath washed his conscience fi-om dead works. Sins he
had, and hath, but some of them he sees lying dead, like the
Egyptians upon tlie shore, others striving for life, with, a
death's wo\ind upon them ; and though he have enemies
still living, yet they are such as shall never have the abso-
lute dominion over him. As long as the great quarrel be-
tween him and God is at an end, all is well enough ; the law
hath nothing against him, all his accusers are silenced ;
Christ hath fulfilled and satisfied the law for him ; the great
Creator hath given a full and general acquittance ; all debts
are discharged for him ; and therefore the man hath little
reason to trouble liis head much with cares and fears. Now
he may go up and down anywhere, and not fear the sergeant ;
liis noble Surety hath paid that vast debt, he hath laid
down the ten thousand talents upon the nail, so that the
man is at peace with God. lie is also at peace with all the
creatures in the world, from the glorious angels that are in
heaven, to the meanest insect or plant ; they are so far
from doing him any real harm, that they all are servants to
tlie friends of God, they all stand ready to oppose their
enemies ; and those of them that are moi-tal are ready to
lay down their lives for one that stands thus related to God.
For wlien any enter into covenant with God, God also
makes a covenant for them with the beasts of the field.
Great peace have they that love God's law, and nothing
shall otfeud them ; such are at peace with death and the
grave. We read of some profane monsters that made a
covenant with death, and were at an agreement with heU ;
JKSU3 THE BEST FRIEXD Cy MAX. £1'/
but this covenant will soon be broken, because he that hath
the keys of death and hell, the power of life and death
never subscribed to the articles of their agreement. But
now the godly man hath a Friend that hath made a covenant
for him, a lirm covenant with death and hell, so that none
of them shall ever do him the least wrong. As for death,
Christ hath taken out its sting; as for the grave, Christ hath
spiced and seasoned it, its power is mastered, its terrible-
ness is taken away. It's now no prison ; Christ hath opened
the doors of it; and now it is but a chamber of repose, a
bed to rest in ; and he that hath already opened this door,
when it was bolted, barred, and double-locked, can and will
erelong open it again, and awaken his from their sleep ; and
is this inconsiderable ? Is not such a i)cace as this is desir-
able ] Who that is well in his wits would not be glad to be
in so secure a condition as this peace will put him in ? And
who are like to have the benefit of this peace but the friends
of God I Oh, therefore, if you value your own peace, if you
would be undisturbed from storms without and heart-
quakes within, if you would have all the creatures in
lieaven and earth at peace with you, if you would have
death unstung, and the grave a chamber and not a prison,
why then, get acquainted with God, and you shall be at
peace.
G. The next head of motives I might take from these
words, "Thereby good shall come unto you." "Acquaint
yourself with him, and be at peace ; and thereby good shall
come unto you." But I shall here be but brief. Think of
what you will that is good for you, and if you are acquainted
with Go<l, you shall have it fur asking for, or that which is
far better than that whicli you desire: for the Lord God
is a sun and a shield ; he will give grace and glory, and no
good tiling will he withhold from them who walk uprightly ;
that is, from those that arc acquainted with him. All his
ways are mercy and truth to such as be in covenant with
him, and all shall work together for good to them that love
him. Enlarge thy desires as wide as the heavens, request
what you will, a^k never so much, and you shall have it;
and what would you have more ? If it be the good of profit
218 HEAVEN UPON EARTH ; OR,
that you desire, what greater gain than godliness 1 Who
can give such rewards to his servants as God ? Who will
give greater portions to his children than this Father ? Who
is like to thrive better than he wlio hath such a vast stock,
such a great trade, such quick and great returns, and, above
all, such a Partner? Oh that those that are all for profit
and gain, that cry out. What advantage shall it be to me if
I serve God ? and what proiit to me, if I am acquainted with
liim ? — oh that siich would but do that wliich will be most
for their ])rofit ! I would desire no more of them than this.
Oh that they would but try what a gainful trade religion
in its power is ! The greatest merchants that ever walked
the exchange, if they l)e not acquainted with God, and have
not Christ for their Factor, are but pedlers to the saints. One
that is acquainted with God gets niore in one hour, in one
prayer, at one sermon, in one meditation, than all the rich
men of the world are worth, put all their estates together.
One receives his peace, the other his pounds ; the one hath,
by way of return, a great deal of troublesome lumber, the
other his box of precious pearls, and a jewel of an infinite
value. Oh ! little doth the laborious worldling think what
poor and small gains his are, when he gets most, to what
this spiritual merchant gets ; he would not sell what he gets
sometimes in one morning for all the riches of both the
Indies. He trades in such commodities that will not suffer
damage upon the sea. His vessel is light and strong ; the
master of it never made a losing voyage. All his Avares
are invaluable ; and though his ship be in many a dreadful
storm, though sometimes she be becalmed, though it be
long before she returns; yet as long as she hath such
provisions ^vithin, such a Pilot, such anchors, she cannot
miscarry ; she will come into the harbour richly laden.
The world will not beUeve this; but I am sure there is never
a man breathing, but will sooner say, that no gain is like
the gain of Christ and glory. One return from Heaven,
one answer of prayer, one smile from God, one look of
love, the head of one Goliah, the death of one sin, one
soul brought home to Christ, one drooping soul comforted,
is a greater mercy (for all the ignorant world make nothing
3T.SVS THE BES*f FRIEXU OF MAN. , 219
of such things as these) than to be invested -with tlie great-
est honours, than to be possessed of all the riches, than to
enjoy all the pleasures that the whole world can afford.
But oh, were men's ej-es opened, were men within sight of
those devouring flames, then they would believe that a
Christ was worth the having, grace a pearl that cannot be
overvalued, and that no trade was comj)arable to a spiritual
merchant, no art like that by which one may turn every-
thing into gold. But if it be the good of pleasure you look
more after, can there be greater pleasures than those which
are in the presence of God ? Can there be any greater plea-
sures than to rejoice in God, and to be made welcome by
him, than to drink flagons of that excellent liquor which is
better than wine ? Can there be better music than to hear
so manj' millions of sweet voices singing hallelujahs? Oh,
there's a concert ! There's melody indeed! If you desire
that other good, the good of honesty, a rare accomplishment,
perfection of grace, purity of soul; wherewithal shall a
young man choose his v.ays, but by taking heed thereto,
according to His word ? V/ell then, lay all these motives to-
gether, and let us see whether they will any whit i)revail.
If the nature of the Person with whom I would fain have
you acquainted, if all these admirable qualities that are in
him (if I may so call them) may signify anything; if all
those glorious effects of acquaintance with God weigh any-
thing with you, one would think by this time you should be
well resolved. If the danger of not being acquainted with
God may make you afraid of standing it out; if good or
evil, if peace or war, if life or death, if all this be as much
as nothing, what then is something? If the frequent
pleading of mercy, if the blood of Christ have any voice, if
the expostulations of his ambassadors may be heard, why
should you not then be persuaded ? If all this will not
TTiDVc you, what can we say more? If we could show you
heaven, and the glories of another world, could we let you
see the fiice of Christ, could we any \v;iy in the world reach
your hearts, and jjcrsuade you by any means to mind the
things of eternal peace, we would do it with all our hearts.
If we were sure to get you with us, and to bring you ac-
220 HEAVEIf CPOX EAU'rn ; OR,
(luainted with God, wc could willingly come begging on our
liare knees to you, and beseech you to be reconciled to God.
We see that dismal day coming, and are grieved to think
what a sad taking you will be in then ; we know the case
will then be altered with them who will not be persuaded
to be reconciled to God. Uh what a woful condition will
they be in, who have heard or read these sermons, and yet
for all that would not mind the looking after acquaintance
Avith God ! How will such wish that they had never been
born, or that they had their being in some of the dark savage
corners of the Avorld, where they might never have heard of
the doctrine of reconciliation, being acquainted with God,
and union with Christ, peace with their otlended Maker,
rather than, having heard of these things, to make light
of them ! Oh, to hear of such a Friend, and to have
him for an Enemy ; to hear of peace, and to choose war ;
to hear of heaven, and go to hell; this is sad indeed.
It would have been far better for such that they had never
known the ways of God, than, after they had known them,
to go in the ways of folly. Oh that men and women had
but such serious thoughts of these things as they will have
erelong ! Oh that they would but believe heaven, and hell,
and eternity to be such realities, as shortly they will ! Oh
that men's hearts were but affected with things, as they
will be when their souls are just a-going, or a little after
they are in another world ! But, oh the miserable condi-
tion of the world ! Oh the lamentable state of professors,
that make no more of the favour or displeasure of God!
Nay, may I not say, oh the folly of the children of God
themselves, that are no more in God's company, when they
know they may be so welcome, when they have tasted so
oft of his kindness, when they were made so much of the
last time that they gave him a visit ! Are not men in a
deep sleep, that they do not hear? Are they not blind,
that they do not see 1 Arc they not ignorant, foolish, and
mad, that they do not understand their interest any better]
It is not without good reason that the Spirit of God doth so
oft cry out upon sinners for their folly ; the Scriptm-e saitli
not in vain, that " tlierc is none that hath understanding,
3ESVS TUB BEST FR1E5D OF MAN. 221
no, not one." No wonder that they who have but half a
cure see men like trees; that those who never had a
thorough work do not prize Christ. Oh that those who
have been brought nigh by gi-ace, who were sometimes afar
off, that such shuuld be so much strangers ; for those that
have mot with such kind entertainment at his house, for
these to keep off so, to come so seldom ; for them who have
fed so liigh at the King's table, to fall to their trash, their
husks; this is a shame indeed, as if the devil kept a better
liouse than God. Christians, doth God deserve this at your
hands i How unkindly do you think he takes this from
you ! What will the world say '? Look how his own ac-
quaintance despise him ! How will the devil insult ! Oh
how do the hearts of your fellow-Christians ache, to see
how strange youi* carriage is ! How do they tremble to
tliink, what if that hne house be built uj)on the sands !
Christians, you who seldom or complimentally visit God,
betliiuk yourselves well what you do, when you begin to
Ije cold in your affections to this Friend ; remember from
\\ hence you are fallen, and repent, and do your first works ;
remember what entertainment you have sometimes had at
God's house ; forget not all his kindnesses ; of all the crea-
tures in the world, you have no cause to carry yourselves
so towards God. I tell you again, the world stands by and
looks on, to see what there is in you more than in others ;
tli( y UKirk your lives more than you are aware of, it may
be. ^^ herefore, look to yourselves, take lieed how you carry
yourselves before them. Oh, why should they see your
faces pale, when you may feed so highly / Oh, show them
by your countenance that you feed upon wliole-some food !
(Jh let your breath smell sweet, let your discourse Ijo more
savoury of the things of God ! Labour to maintain a sweet,
constant, uninterrupted intercourse with God, to walk witli
jiim. Ob, Httle do you think wliat you lose by your coming
so seldom to tiiis Friend. I appeal to your own exj>erience.
Was not that disli you eat last at liis table sweet I And
what, flo you tliiuk tliat God doth not still keej) as good a
lioubc as lie diil i i>o you believe tliat lie lialh spent ail
liis best wines i Can that fountain ever be emptied ? Is
P
222 HEAVEN UPON EARTH ; OR,
there not l)read and good cheer enough in your Father's
house 1 Believe it, God hath other kind of entertainments,
richer cheer, better fare still to make you welcome with, if
you would not be so strange, if you would but come oftener
to him. As for Christians, methinks I need not use so
many Avords to persuade you, methinks you that know how
sweet his company is should desire to be never out of it.
Christians, I tell you plainly, if you ever expect true peace
in your life, and true joy and comfort at death, it's your
only way to keep close to God ; visit him oft l\v secret prayer
and other kind of duties, and then you shall ever and anon
meet with that which will sweeten your greatest diligence,
and abundantly make amends for your pains. Knock at
his door, ask for him, and resolve to stay till he comes ;
though he come not at the first, second, or third knocking,
yet I am sure he is within, and will come at last, if you
w'ill but wait; and when you have once again met with
him, oh let him not go, but tell him seriously that you can-
not bear his absence ; he shall be your God and Friend,
living and dying ; death itself shall not part you. Go also
and tell your friends you have found Him whom your soul
loves, that you have met with Jesus, and see if you can
get them too to come out and see him ; bid them taste and
see how good the Lord is ; commend him all you can to
your poor Christless friends. But you are not the persons
that I intended to speak to, only thus a little by the by,
that I maj'^ a little warni my o\\n heart and yours in this
great duty of maintaining an intimate close converse and
acquaintance with God. But my business is to go out into
the highways and hedges, and to invite poor wandering
strangers that have nothing to live upon themselves, and
that do not know what a noble open house God keeps, that
never tasted of his kindness in Christ, to come to tliis royal
least, and to eat their lill of such food as they can never eat
too much of, never be surfeited with. " Unto you, 0 men,
I call ; and my voice is to the sons of men. 0 ye simple,
understand wisdom ; and, ye fools, be ye of an understand-
ing heart," Prov. viii. 4, o. " Hear, 0 ye deaf, and see, 0
Mind; let the dead hear the voice of God, and live." Then
JESPS THE BEST FKIEXD OF 5IAX. 223
hear wliat 1 huve been speaking of. I have almost done my
message. Consider well of these things, as you tender the
displeasm-e of God, as you value your souls ; be serious ; re-
member what it is that I have been discoursing to you
about ; read it over again, and study it ; read and pray, pray
and read, and turn this exhortation into j)rayer ; take witlx
you words, and say, Oh that this might be the sermon that
might bring me acquainted with God ! Oh that this might
be tlie man that might bring me to some knowledge of Christ 1
Oh that this might be the happy day wherein a match,
may be concluded between my soul and tlie precious Jesus !
But alas, alas, where are the hearts that are thus smitten ?
Where are the souls that are any wliit taken with this in-
finite beauty ? How few liavc any real love or good will
for Christ I Oh, who hath believed our report, and to whom
is the arm of the Lord revealed? Though I and many
hundreds more have been pleading thus with sinners ; though
some of the ambassadors of peace weep l)ittorly, that their
message is no more kindly entertained ; though their public
preaching be followed with private prayers and secret groans;
though they expostulate the case with poor refractory crea-
tures, witli all the earnestness that they can for their lives ;
though we use the most powerful arguments that we can,
and deliver them with all the vehemeney, seriousness, and
compassion that we can for our souls ; yet how are the
greatest part of our hearers unconcerned ! Is not a great
part of our auditory as stujjid and senseless as the vei-y
Btoncs they tread on ? The more is our sorrow. We fear, as
to the most of them that hear us, what we speak is lost.
It may be they may be a little atlectcd just at the hearing, or
for jui hour or two ; l)ut, oh that these truths might have
a lively and abiding imjiression on meirs hearts! I fear —
oh that they were causeless fears! — I fear tliat most of you
that have heard f)f these things will go away, and (luickly
forget what weighty things you have heard ; perliajis some
of you may sjiy, Tlie man w;i.s very earnest, and some of his
expressions were piercing. 0 friends, I hope it is not your
commendation that I desire ! Oh that I mav, with a sindc
heart, respect God'a glory! I say again, I would not be
224 HKAVDiV UPON EAKTIi; OR,
pleased with your praise, nor would I fear your dispraise ;
it 's your souls I want ; and may I Init manage my great
work in this successfully, and see you acquainted with God,
before I leave you for ever, I hope I should be contented to
be trod in the dirt. Oh that my heart may not deceive me !
Oh that my compassion to your souls were greater, a thou-
sand times greater ! Oil that I could never speak to you
of such things as these without tears ! I must again and
again profess I am ashamed of my heart, that it is no more
sensible of these v/eighty affairs ! But, 0 mighty and glo-
rious God, if thou pleasest, thou canst out of the mouth of a
babe and suckling ordain strength ! Oh that thou wouldst
make the worm Jacob to thrash mountains ! Oh that thou
wouldst make use of the most unworthy and weakest instru-
ment, in that honourable service of bringing home some
souls to thyself! Oh, if but any one soul, if but one soul
that was estranged from God, might by these lines be brought
acquainted with him, if I might prevail with any other
stubborn enemy to lay down his weapons, and be friends
with him, I sh(nild think my pains Avell bestowed ; though
(if that will make you to regard it ever the more) this work
hath cost me many an hour's study, and it hath been inter-
rupted with many bodily distempers, groans and sorrows,
fears and sighs. Yet if, after all my travail, I may hear of
any children born of God ; if I may meet but one soul the
better for it, by it brought to glory, I shall have abundant
cause to bless my God, and to rejoice that my labour hath
not been in vain in the Lord. But if I might have more,
I should have still more cause to adore intinite goodness
and rich grace ! 0 my dear friends ! 0 precious and im-
mortal souls ! What shall I say to you 1 What shall I do
for you ? Oh did you but know how hardly I fetch my breath
at this time ; did you l)ut sec what a crazy creature he is
that writes to you ; did you but know how faint he hath
been sometimes in speaking to you, you would go nigh to
pity him. Oh pity yourselves ! Oh pity your own souls,
that erelong must be turned naked out of your bodies, and
hear the cxposlulations of a dying man, who would gladly
live with yuu in everlasting glory, aud zneut you ail among
JESTTS THE BEST miEND OF MAN*. 225
the frieiuls of the Bridegroom ; who longs to see you among
the sons of God, in that great meeting, when the Father sliall
send his servants the angels to fetch all his children home
to his own house ! Oh pity your souls, and let not all my
pains be lost, trample not under your feet the blood of the
covenant, neither count it a common thing: remember
that the slighting of Christ is a dangerous thmg ; the loss
of his favour, and the loss of your soul, must go together !
Oil, how shall I leave you ! How shall I part with you !
Shall I go before my work is done ? What shall I say
more 1 What arguments shall I further make use of? Oh
that I knew what to saj', that I might prevail ! And are
you still resolved to put me off with frivolous excuses?
Can you put off your consciences thus? Are you still con-
tented to be aliens and strangers? If you are, know this,
that I must leave these lines to bear witness against you ;
remember this, that you were told of these things again and
again. Those that can forget sermons here shall remember
them hereafter ? If you be not the better for this discourse,
you will curse the day that ever you heard it; it will be a
cutting reflection, when, another day, you shall say to your
own soul, At such a time, such a one did beseech me in
Christ's stead to ])e reconciled to God, and I would not:
wretched man that I was! I made nothing of all the oflers
of grace and mercy, I made little accmint of these intoler-
able torments which now make me gnash my teeth ! Hear,
0 unhappy creature, that art yet alive; be not thou i)ast
liope ! Oh that thou mayest see thy sad state before it be
quite past remedy ! Oh let me take up a lamentation for
thee, as one whose condition is beyond expression deplor-
able ! Oh that I could speak as afVectionately to you as one
did lately, wlio spent bis strength and life amongst you all,
viz., that I can neither eat nor drink, nor sleep quietly,
whilst I tbiiik of the danger that precious souls run every
moment, while they are unacquainted with God ! Oh that
mine eyes were waters, and my head a fountain of tears,
that I might weep day and nigbt for poor Christless crea-
tures, that laugh and arc as cheerful as if no danger were near
them ; whertus that dismal day approaches apace, u hereia
226 HEAVEN UPON EAR-ril ; OR, ■
they must bid an everlasting farewell to all their pleasures,
and lie down for ever under the scalding wrath of an angry
God! Oh stand astonished, 0 heavens, and wonder, 0
earth! Here's a man that had rather be a beast than a
man, a devil than a saint, that prefers hell before heaven,
that loves death and hates life ; here 's a man that makes
nothing of going to hell; damnation is a thing that he jests
with; 'tis but damning, he saith. But damning! Is that
so light a thing — a thing to be laughed at ! Well, if that
damning be nothing, never complain of it, when you feel it.
If it be nothing, never groan and bite your tongue, nor
gnash your teeth for it. If heaven, and your soul, the
favour of God, eternal happiness, be such small matters,
never complain for the loss of them. Well then, belike
you are pleased very well with your choice, and you do
choose rather to enjoy the pleasures of sin for a moment,
than the pleasures of holiness, which last for ever. There
stands a sinner that hears all this, and frets and foameth at
the hearing of it ; it 's a torture to his soul to be within the
sound of such truths ! Why, act like one in his wits. If the
liearing of hell and damnation be so troublesome, what will
the feeling of it be,thinkest thou ? But that I may, if possible,
prevail, I shall leave a few serious questions with you, which I
charge you, in the presence of God, seriously to consider,
and to give a wise answer to them.
Quest. 1. Are those things which you have heard, true,
or are tlicj' not ? Doth not the Scriptures speak the same
things which I do ? Dare you say that the Word of Truth
is false 1 Do but open the Bible, dip where you will ; what
is that you read there 1 Is it not something that hath a ten-
dency to what I have been teaching 1 Oh that you would
but give yourselves the trouble of searching the Scriptures,
to see whether these things are so ! To what pm-pose, do you
tliink, sill )uld we spend our breath ? To what jnirpose should
we follow you with such exhortations, if we had not soine
grounds for what we say ? If there be no such thing in the
word of God, why then do you not say so 1 Why do you not
show us it, if there be such a place that saith there is no
need of repentance, that man's condition is safe enough al-
JEStS TnE BESf PRIEXD OF MAN. 227
ready, and tluit, lu' may do well enough, tlioiigh he be never
reconciled to God ? Do you think that we take delight in
vexing men and women ? Do you conceive that it pleaseth
us to displease you, and to get your hatred? Do you not
believe that a great many of us, if it might consist with
God's honour and your welfare, had not far rather be ex-
cused ? Can any man imagine that so many thousands of
prophets, apostles, and ministers, in such distant ages, and
in such distant places, should all agree in this, to impose a
falsity upon the world I Would any man be so mad as to in-
vent such things as these, which are so conti'ary to men's
dispositions, if he had not abundant warrant from God him-
self? Is it possil)le that men should make such complaints,
and shed so many tears, and be in such agonies about these
things, if there were nothing at all in them ? Are all the
experiences of so many thousands of saints but mere fancies 1
Speak, Christian, speak. What do you say to this? Are all
thy joys, thy answers of prayers, those sweet dishes that
thou hast sometimes fed upon, but dreams ? Doth not thy
very blood stir in thee, at the very putting such a question
to thee ? Canst thou not say that thou hast seen, that thou
liast felt, and that thou hast known undoubtedly, that spiri-
tual things are realities, the greatest realities in the world,
and that thou hast been as much affected with them as ever
tlujii wert with the things of sense ? Let me, the meanest of
ten thou.sand, tell the stiffest atheist in the world, that I have
seen these things so realized, that I shall sooner believe that
1 am turned to a stone, or am dead, than believe that
spirituals arc nullities and fancies. I am confident, if there
be any credit to be given to both eyes and ears, then these
things are true; and had you seen but wliat I have seen in
dying saints, and heard what I have heard, you would
easily have been convinced that there is something in
comnuniion with God, something in spiritual joys. I am
sure, if there be any truth in the Scriptures, if the word
of God be true, if Christ ami the apostles were not all mis-
taken, then tliesc things are true. If I sliould tell you
a business tl'at <li<l concern your house, or your children, or
body, or any worldly thing whatever, upon my owu per*
22S nEAVEN UPON EARTH ; OK,
sonal knowledge, would you not readily assent to what I
say? I am persuaded you would be far from, suspecting
the truth of what I affirmed. I am ready to think that
there is none of you all that think that I dare tell you that
which is false. Oh then, why will you not believe me in a
business of far greater consequence 1 And if you ask me, to
what purpose I spend so much time for notliing ? Wliat
need I speak at this rate ? What, will I make infidels of
you all ? What, do I think that you are such atheists, as
not to believe that the word of God is true? Well then,
you yourselves are witnesses that the word of God is true,
and that you do believe all that is contained in it ; and by
rational inferences deduced from it. I shall therefore take
it for granted that you give your assent to these things, if
you be Christians in profession ; your very name speaks as
much. Now, my next question shall be this : —
Quest. 2. Are these things of weight and importance, or
are they not ? You hear that they are matters that con-
cern your eternal life or death, soul affairs; and a,re not
these matters of the greatest consequence ? If acquaintance
Vfith God, the happiness or misery of a soul, your making
or undoing for ever, be inconsiderable things, what then are
great things ? Is it a matter of gi-eater importance to lose
the sight of a lascivious jilay ? Is it an affair of greater
weight to have the frowns of a wanton mistress, or the
frown of a God ? You said even now, that the word of
God was true; if you will stand to that, I desire no more.
How is it written ? Read a verse or two ; turn to Matthew
V. 20, " Except your righteousness exceed the righteousness
of the scribes and Pharisees, you shall in no case enter into
the kingdom of heaven ;" and John iii. 3, " Except a man
be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God." And
God will pour out his wrath upon the heathen, and upon
the families that call not upon his name. Doth not the
Scripture say that is the one thing necessary? Are not
these things called by the Lord Christ the Aveightier
things? Matt, xxiii. 23. I hope you will not say that God
is mistaken, and that the Scripture speaks more of these
piatters than needs. What, are you gone from your word
JESUS THE BEST FRIEND OP MAN. 229
SO soon ? Did not you say tliat the word of God was true,
and are you now of anotlier mind, because you find tliat it
requires more strictness than you are willing to submit to ?
But are you ashamed of tluit, and are you convinced of this
also, tliat the doctrines of reconciliation, acquaintance, and
peace with God, are attairs of the higliest importance in the
world ? And do you indeed believe this 'i and will you
stand to it ? Well then, my next question shall be this : — •
Quest. 3. What do you mean then, to mind such tilings
as you acknowledge to be most unquestionaI)ly true, and of
the greatest consequence, with so much indifference and
coldness] What reason have you then for your strange
neglect in your prosecution of them 1 What say they are
the greatest things in the world ] and will you say they are
least to be looked after ? Is it any prudence and wisdom
to be very serious about trifles, and to trifle about the most
serious things I Are heaven, the love of God, and the like,
by your own confession, the most weighty, and will you
make light of them 1 Oh, folly and hypocrisy! Out of thy
own mouth thou shalt be condemned. Dost tliou know that
heaven and hell are before thee ? Dost thou know that the
one is unspeakably glorious, and the other unspeakably
<lrea<lfiil? and yet, for all this, dost thou stand demurring
^^hich of these thou shouldst choose I And darest thou for
all this venture on in a way which leads to the region of
eternal darkness? And though tliose that know the way
bi'tter than you, and see you ride on so hastily and merrily,
call after you with earnestness, yet do you still turn your
back upon them 1 Consider wliether you act in these afliiirs
like one that is well in bis wits. Is God the best Friend in
the wurld, and yet his kindness least to be regarded / j\lan,
what hast tliou to say for thyself? Oli what brutes, and
how irrational are men in their spiritual matters! How do
they contradict themselves! IIow do they say one thing,
and do theijuite contrary! Oh let me, in a word or two, renew
my expostulation with them who are bjath to be accounted
fools! What reason liiive you to undervalne the favour nf
God as you do { What reason liave you thns foolishly to
■•.ast away yourselves, and to slight acquaintance with your
230 HEAVEN TTPON EARTH ; OK,
Maker? Let me plead ■with yoii in the language of a
reverend divine (Richard Baxter) of onr own. Look up
yonr best and strongest reasons ; and if you see a man put
his hand into the fire till it burn off, you'll marvel at it.
But this is a thing that a man may have reason for, as
Bishop Cranmer had, when he burnt off his hand for sub-
Bcribing to popery. If you see a man cut off a leg or an
arm, it's a sad sight; but this is a thing that a man may
have good reason for, as many a man doth it to save his
life. If you see a man give his body to be burnt to ashes,
and to be tormented with strappadoes and racks, and refuse
deliverance when it is offered : this is a hard case to flesh
and blood ; but this a man may have good reason for, as you
see in Heb. xi. 33-38, and as many a hundred martyrs have
done. But for a man to forsake tlie Lord that made him,
for a man to run into the fire of hell when he is told of it
and entreated to turn that he might be saved, tliis is a
thing that can have no reason in it, that is reason indeed,
to justify or excuse it. For heaven will paj^ for the loss of
anything that we can lose to get it, or for any labom- that
we bestow for it ; but nothing can pay for the loss of heaven.
Read on in Mr. Baxter's "Call to the Unconverted," page
169. Do you still believe the word of God to be true, and
the things contained in it to be the most weighty, and yet
will you still pass them over, as if there were nothing at all
in them ?
Quest. 4. My next question tliat I shall propound to you,
and desire your serious and speedy answer to, is this : Do
you believe than you can find a better friend than God?
Can you mend yourself anywhere else ? Is there in heaven
or earth any that can do as much for you as God can ? Is
there any one that can take you off when you come to he
accused of high treason against the King of heaven, and to
be arraigned before that just Judge? Have you got that
which will quit your cost in getting it, and countervail
the loss of a soul ? What is it that still hath an interest in
your heart, that is thought to be an equal competitor with
God for your dearest love ? If it be indeed that which will
shield you from the arrests of death and the wrath of the
JESUS THE BEST FRIEXD OP MAN. 231
Almighty; if it be that wliich can slielter you from the
storm of liis displeasure ; if it be that wliich ^vill do you as
much gijod as heaven, and make you as liappy as God can ;
Avhy then, I have little to say ; make your best of it. But
consider well what you do first ; be sure that you be not
mistaken ; have not many thought as you think, and found
their mistake when it was too late 1
Quest. 5. Do you think that this world will last always
with you ] Do you not believe that erelong yo\i must die,
and your soul appear before God, and Ijy him be sentenced
to its everlasting state ? Where is all the glory of those great
monarchs who despised God and oppressed his people ? What
is become of all their pomp ] Which of them that flourished
three tiiousand years ago stand alive now in glory 1 And are
you better than they 1 Shall the worms which have made a
])rey of them, spare you ? Is Death more favouraljle now-a-
(lays than he was before ? Is not the world still, as it was,
but vanity ? Is not all Hesh still but grass, and the beauty
of it as a flower that is cut down and withereth suddenly ]
Well then, this being granted, tliat nothing is more certain
than death, and that it is appointed for all men once to die,
would you not then be glad of something that will stand you
in stead after deatli, a Friend in another world ? Why, then,
•lo you not speedily get acquainted with Ilini who alone can
befriend vou in that dreadful hour?
Quest. 6. What do you think will become of you, if, after
all tliis, you go on in your old ways] Wliat will become of
you, d(j you think, if you should die without the knowledge
of God? What hopes liave you of life in peace, if you bid
di'tiance to the Lord of life, and contemn the Prince of peace?
How shall you escajie if you neglect so great salvation?
What do you think that those who once, as you do now,
sliglited Christ, and never looked after reconciliation with
are now doing in another world ? What would you do in
this case / — should one come to you either out of heaven or
out of hell, how wonderfully do you think you should be
jifiected with the narration which lie would give you of
the atVairs of the invisible world I Why then will you not
now be aliected \s ith what wc say ] for assiu'c yoursclvea,
232 HEAVEN UPON EARTH; OB,
whatever you may think, our testimony is as true, and hath
a better foundation of credit, than if one should tell you he
came from the dead, and speak to you of these things.
Quest. 7. Another question I would propound to you is
this: Are you willing to bear the displeasure of God? Can
you undergo the weight of that wrath which made His back
to ache who was mighty to do and suffer ? Can you with
any patience hear that dreadful word pronounced by the
mouth of that Judge who will see to the execution of his
sentence, "Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlasting tor-
ment ; depart from me, ye workers of iniquity ; for I know
you not V Can you endure without any trouble that scal-
ding hot wrath which is abundantly more painful than fii-e
and brimstone, more intolerable than to be shut up in a
burning fiery furnace, or to be boiled in a caldron of melted
lead, or whatsoever torments the wit of men or devils can
invent 1 Can you with any patience bear the stone, gout,
toothach, colic, or some such distempers of body which last
hut for a while 1 Oh, how long do you think the time when
you are in that condition ! How do you toss and tumble I
What lamentable moans do you make ! Do not you think
you cannot be too much pitied in that condition ? How then
will you be able to lie down in those torments, the least drop
of which is abundantly more painful than the greatest tor-
ment that ever you felt in your life? If these seem dreadful to
you, why do you not go the way to avoid them ? which is
by getting an interest in Him who hath the keys of hell at
his girdle ; for there is no condemnation to them that are
in Christ Jesus, to them that are brought into a state of
reconciliation and acquaintance with God by his Son, our
Mediator.
Quest. 8. Are you contented to lose everlasting happiness ?
Can you willingly see Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob, and
a great many fi-om all the quarters of the world, sit down in
the kingdom of heaven, and yourself cast out ? How do
you like to have those whom you scorned to look upon,
set at the table at the feast, and yourself shut out with the
dogs ? Would you not be glad to have a word of comfort
spoken to you, when your soul is just taking its leave of
JESUS THE BEST FRIEND OP MAN. 233
your body 1 Would you not be glad, then, to be conveyed by
the blessed angels into the presence of God, and to be croAvn-
ed witli an immortal and glorious crown ? "Would it do you
any harm to be jjcrfect in lioliness and hapiiiness when you
die ? Would you not be glad to be saved when others shall
be damned ? In a word, do you not desire to be rejoicing
and ])raising God in endless pleasures, \vhen others shall be
weeping and cursing God in endless torments 1 Why then
do not you live the lives of the righteous, if you would die
their deatlis, and have your latter end like theirs? If you
would be glorious and liappy fur ever, why do you not en-
deavour to be holy and spiritual in time ? if you would have
God your Friend in another world, what do you mean that
you labour no more to be acquainted with him in this world?
Quest. 9. How Avould you take it at any man's hands,
to be served as you sei-ve God? Suppose you should
take up a poor child that came to your door to beg,
that had scarce a rag to cover his nakedness, or a morsel
of bread to put into his mouth, and nowhere to hide his
liead ; sujijiose you should strip tliis ])0or beggar of his rags,
and clothe him in very good apparel, and take him into
your own house, and take as much care of hira as if he were
your ovvii child ; suppose, after this, you should bid him do
you some small piece of service, and he instead of it should
say. Command your man, and do your work yourself; and
instea<l of answering your kindness, should ofter you the
(greatest abuse in the world, and afterwards conspire with a
company of rogues to rob and nuirderyou — liow would you
like this? Should you think that such a fellow as this
did not deserve a lialter rather than your favour? But
now, if after this you should send after tliis ungrateful
WTetch, and tell him that you are m illing to forget all that
is past, and to receive him into the greatest favour, and
never to cast his former wickedness in his teeth ; how would
you take it at his bands, if hesh(»uld stand, I know not how
long, disputing whether he should accept of your kindness or
no, whether he should choose the gaol and gallows, or your
Iiousc ? IJut if, after all tbis,you should send messenger after
messenger, and ufler to give him all that you have in the
234 HEAVEN UPON EAKTII ; OR,
world, and to bestow your only daughter upon him, and to
•settle presently a great estate iipon liim with her, how would
you take it if this vile luigrateful beggar should put you ott"a
great while together with some poor excuse or other 1 How
would you like it if he should make light of your offers, and
tell you he thanks you for nothing, and should undervalue
your kindness 1 Would you not soon resolve not to trouble
yourself anj^ longer with such an unthankful monster?
Would you not let him take his course, and not much pity
him, if he afterwards see the difierence between a father's
house and a gaol, between liberty and a prison, between riches,
glory, and pleasure, and poverty, dishonour, and sorrows ?
Would j'^ou not bid him never expect kindness more at your
hands ; but, seeing he would not be ruled, to take whatfollowsl
What do you say 1 Would you not do thus ? I am persuaded
you would. But should I unriddle this parable, who do you
think would be condemned ? Your own mouth would ac-
cuse you, and you would be your own judge. Thou art
that man that hast dealt thus disingenuously with God ;
thou art that l)eggar to whom the Lord hath shown much
kindness, and ofl'ered more ; he hath sent messenger after
messenger, and at last he hath sent his Son to invite thee
to liis own house, aiid he oifers to make thee as happy as
heaven, glory, and happiness itself can do ; and thou
standest still demurring, adding one delay to another, and
art fiir from that gi'atefiil and speedy compliance which the
nature of the thing doth require ; and, instead of coming at
God's call, and thankfully owning his marvellous kind-
ness, how basely dost thou prefer thy company, thy lust,
before him, and ofler the most intolerable afionts to his
majesty, and make nothing of his unparalleled goodness,
and continuest in open rebellion against him ! What, then,
liast thou to say for thyself, why God should not, with a
just abhorrence, cast thee off for ever? But now. that God
should still otl'er thee as high as ever, and (instead of doing
as I have said, and as thou thyself would have done in case
of a less contemjit) still follow thee Avith such a gracious
proposal as this is, that I now make unto thee ; is it not a
miracle of mercy, a prodigy of kindness ?
JESUS TDE BEST PllIEND OF MAN. 235
Quest. 10. And now, what will you do'? Will you still,
for all this, go on in your contempt of God? Will you still
refuse to know him, and never mind acquaintance with him ?
Will you still be indifferent whether you have God for your
Friend or your Enemy 1 Now you have been tendered such
a match, will you make another choice 1 will you bestow
your heart somewhere else? And when you have done
that, dare you stand to your choice? and say that you have
done very wisely in refusing God, and in embracing this
I)resent world I Will you maintain it at the day of judg-
ment, that you have done well to refuse acquaintance with
himself, and to run the hazard of his displeasure ? But you
wiW not, you say, trouble your head with such melancholy
fancies as these are ; they are enough to put a man beside
his wits ; you lioi)e to do as well as others, and, so long, you
care not. Well then, it seems you are resolved; though,
lot me tell you, if you are contented to fare as most shall
fare at last, you must be contented to be damned ; for the
Scripture is exceeding clear in this, that the number of
those that go to heaven is a very small number ; and if you
will not take my word for it, (for indeed I would not that you
should take my word, nor any man's breathing, without war-
rant from God's word, in things of so high a nature,) look into
the Scripture, and, at your leisure, ponder a while upon these
following texts: Luke xiii. 23, 24, "Then said one unto
him, Lord, are there few that be saved? And he said unto
llicm, Strive to enter in at the strait gate: for many, I say
unto you, Avill seek to enter in, and shall not be able;"
i\latt. XX. t(j, " Many arc called, but few are chosen;" and
Luke xii. 32. Christ .saith his Hock is a little Hock. And
tlie church complains of the fewness of her number in this
language: "Woe is me! for I am as when they have gathered
tilt- .suMiuuM- fruits," Micah vii. 1. I might bcaj) up al)un-
dance of Scriptures of the same nature, all wbi(-h speak
tills to us, that it is not so common a thing to go to heaven
as most ])eople reckon upon. Ihit yet if you be resolved,
come what will come, not to change your mind ; if, after so
many warnings and ])leadings, you still continue of this
judgment; I must speak u dreadful word. Your blood be
236 HEAVEN UPON EARTn ; OR,
upon yoiii' own soul. I luive blown the trumpet; I have
clone what in me lies to convince thee of thy dangerous
state, while thou art a stranger to God, and to bring thee
to a speedy acquaintance with liim ; but thou hast, after
many and many a tender, given in this answer, that as for
God, thou dost not desire to be acquainted with him ; as for
youi" matching with his Son, it's that which thou carest
not for hearing of, except thou mightst have his estate with-
out his sovereignty ; thou wilt not have him for thy Hus-
band, except he will let thee do as thou list, and run a-
Avhoring from him when thou pleasest; thou wilt not have
heaven, except thou mayst have it without holiness ; and
as for the invitations of God, thou still makest light of them ;
neither ])romises nor threatenings signify much with thee.
Well then, when you find l^y woful experience what you
have done, know whom you must lay all the blame on. I call
heaven and earth to record, and you yourselves are witnesses,
that I have, with all the pity and earnestness that I could
for my soul, told you of these great things : but you think
the flattering otters that the devil makes more advantageous
than those which God makes, and his service to be pre-
ferred before the service of Christ, and the friendship of the
world to be esteemed before the friendship of God ; and the
pleasures of sin, which are but for a season, you value
before those rivers of pleasures which are at the right
hand of God for evermore. Now, if you continue in this
mind, blame not me if you miscarry for ever; you must,
wliether you will or no, stand to your choice. Do not say
that you were not told of these things ; this is not the first
time l)y many, but it may be the last that you may ever hear,
for ought that I know. Remember you were once well
ottered. Do you think that God will al\^'ays bear with such
unworthy abuses 1 Shall God's justice never be righted?
Yes, yes ; be not deceived ; slighted kindnesses will cost dear
at last. What have you yet to say for yourself? Do you
think that I mean you any hui-t by all this, except you
count salvation a wrong, and kindness itself an injury ? But
if all this will not do, go then and make the best thou canst
of all thy fricnd.-i ; let us see how well and how long they
JESUS THE BEST pniENB OP MAX. 237
■will entertain tliee. Ere a few days, it may be, shall be at an
end, we sliall hear how yoix like your choice; when thej
sliall turn you out of doors, and tell you plainly, they can
do nothing for you, you must shift as well as you can ; as
for them, they cannot provide for themselves, much less for
you. And then let's see who hath made the best choice,
he that is acquainted with God, and hath chosen him for his
Friend, or he that hath taken the world for his friend. Let's
see which will do most for their friends when a time of trial
comes. When heaven and earth are all in a tlame, when
the trumpet is sounding, when the Judge and hi»attendants,
Christ and all his holy angels, arc coming, when the prisons,
the graves, arc opened, and the prisoners are brouglit forth,
then let's see who will have the most cheerful countenance,
— he that holdctli up his hand at the bar, or they that sit
upon the bench with the Judge : for know ye not that the
saints, the friends of the Judge, shall sit with him when he
judgeth the world ? We shall know, when the storm riseth,
whose house was I)cst, — that which was built u])on the sand,
or that which was built upon the rock. Oh that people
were now of the same mind that they will be of at the day
of judgment! Oh that they would consider, that if they
will not now be at leisure to think of these things, they
shall be at leisure to repent of them hereafter ! Do not talk
of scorns, and reproaches, and suficring ; wliat, do you think
tliat heaven will not make amends for all that? Which is
most to be feared, the scorns of (iod, or the scorns of men?
A\ liich will do you most hurt, man's contempt, or God's?
Where is tlie man that will 1)C laughed out of a great estate ?
Because a fo(jl saitli tliat a jewel is not worth the taking up,
will you therefore never stoop to take it up? The truth of
it is, if you intend to make anythingof your profession, you
must be willing to be counted a fool and a madman; but
you nmst reniendx-r it is by tliose tliat are so themselves.
Oh, be not afi'righted from your duty by the talk of the rab-
ble! If the thing be evil, let the voice of it scare you;
but if it be good, let not the fear of them who are very in-
competent judges in such a case divert you from it. Do you
tliink that such po-jr excuses will be taken at the day of
238 REAVEN UPON earth; or, ■
judgment ? What, do you intend to say to God then : " Lord,
I would have laboured to have known thee, I would have
taken some care of my soul, and I would have taken some
pains about the things of eternity, but that I saw that al-
most every one that did with any seriousness look after
such matters were scorned and laughed at. When I had
got into the company of those that were godly, and I had
half a mind to go with them to heaven, then my friends
fell a-jeering me, and asked me whether I meant to be made
to undo myself, to turn Puritan and fanatic ? " Do you, I say,
believe that such a plea will stop the mouth of the Judge,
and keep him from pronouncing the sentence against you ]
Will this hold the hands of justice? Will the thoughts of
this quench or cool the dreadful flames ? Be better advised.
Oh be better advised, for your soul's sake, and consider how
such creatures will befool themselves, who would upon
such a trifle part with heaven ! that would be laughed
out of glory, and jeered into liell ! Is your mind yet al-
tered ? Have you any thoughts or resolutions to look after
your soul and acquaintance with God l Are there none of
you all that ask by this time. What shall I do to be ac-
quainted with God ? Are there none of you that J^egin to
think that it is high time to look out for a Friend in a time
of need 1 Have I all this time been beating the air, and la-
bouring in vain ? Shall I leave you all as I found you ? God
forbid. Methinks I hear some poor souls crying out by this
time. Oh that I had but sucli a Friend that would bring me
acquainted with God ! Oh tliat I had but a saving know-
ledge of Jesus Christ ! Oh that I did but understand what
it means to have communion with the Father and the Son,
through the Spirit ! I see myself undone and lost for ever,
except I have an interest in this Friend. Oh, who will
bring me to him? How shall I get acquainted with him?
Oh that's sweet language! That's a very good question,
*' What shall I do to be saved ? " But do you speak in sober
badness? Do you speak in jest or in earnest? If any one
would give you advice and direction, would you follow it in
spite of all the opposition of hell ? What do you say ? Will
you labour to keep exactly to those directions that shall be
JEStIS THE BEST FRIEND OF MAN. 239
given ? If you will, I do not question but that you and God
will be acquainted before you die. But, oh let ine not take
a great deal of pains, and all to little purpose, as to you ;
do not now serve me as the Jews did Jeremiah — come and
ask counsel of God, and take the devil's. But in hopes that
some poor souls may in good earnest desire directions with
an intent to follow them, I shall give them as follows.
DIRECTION I.
If you would be acquainted with God, labour to get a
thorough sense of your great estrangement from him, and
of the danger of such an estrangement. This is what makes
people so well contented with their condition, because they
see no great evil or danger in it. IMen are ready to think
very well of their condition, although they be enemies to
God, and no friends to Christ. Enemies to God ! They scorn
your words, though all this while they express the greatest
contempt of him conceivable : though they regard neither
his commands, threatenings, nor promises ; though they value
the company of a dnmijard, a whore, liefore the company of
God ; though they do all that they can against God, love
nothing that he loves ; though they side with God's great-
est enemies, yet they abhor to l^e thoiight to be any other
than well-wishers to Christ, and tlie friends and servants of
God ; though they never come near God, yet tiiey take it
very ill if they be not reckoned amongst his acquaintance
ajid s])ecial friends. Where are the professors living almost
that do not count it a high piece of uncharitableness, if
one do not canonize them among the saints, though they live
more like brutes? How heinously do they take it, if any
one do l)ut question their state ! Tlvey ignorant of God !
they enemies to the cross of Clu'ist! they blind! they un-
converted ! ^\ iio is tiiat niiin w lio dare quosiion their con-
dition? Tlicy hojie to fare .-is well as any ])recise Puritan of
them all; they will hope to be saved. Say what you will tben,
you shall never beat them out of their trust in God. And
though, in faithfulness to their souls, we beg of them to
make a more diligent inquiry into the state of their souls,
because wc kuu\\- tliivt the heart ia so deceitful, and wc Imva
240 SEAVEJf UPON fiAnttt ; Oft,
very great cause to suspect that tliey know not God ; yet
they will go on very cheerfully with this contidence, until
Christ himself show them their mistake, and tell them plainly
that he knows them not, and that he never accounted them
any of his Friends. But now, did men but thoroughly im-
derstand their natural estrangement from God ; were they
but indeed sensible of the vileness of their hearts ; did they
but take notice of the rebellions and treasons that are with-
in, the case would be tar otherwise with them than it is.
Oh, this, this is the reason why so many millions of professors
miscarry everlastingly, and never come to desire the friend-
ship of God, because they never believed that they were any
otherwise than friends ; they do not suspect themselves at
all, but think that they are rich and increased in goods, and
have need of nothing, whereas the Lord knows, and Christians
know too, that they are poor, and blind, and naked. But
now, when men begin to ])e thoroughly sensible of this enmity
that is in their natures against God ; when they see what
mutinies and rebellions there are in them against their most
gracious Lord and King ; and when they are made to un-
derstand the consequences of this war, then how sensibly
do they cry out. What shall they do? Was there evei*
any poor wretched creatures in worse condition than them-
selves? Was ever any one's heart worse than theirs?
Are there any out of hell that are such monsters of sin
as they are? Oh, what shall they do? They see the
fire kindled, and themselves hanging over everlasting burn-
ings : now all the world for Chiist ; they believe now that
God and man are not equals ; that there is no contending
with the Almighty : Who can stand before his indignation ?
And when they see God's sword drawn, and the point of it
set against their heart; when they behold the terrors of the
Lord setting themselves in array against them, and them-
selves like to lose all, then how welcome would the news of
a parley be ! How glad would they be then to liear of a
pardon? Then down go their weapons; they will sooner
come before God with a halter alxiut their necks than a
sword by their sides; they ■will fight now with no other
weapons but ^ears and jn-ayers: as for their armour, they
JESUS TUE BEST FRIEND OF MAN. 241
break it in pieces, and lay it at the feet of tlieu' offemled
rrincc ; and, oh! if tho}- might but have any hopes of pardon,
it would revive their heai-ts ; if they might have but a look
of kindness from God, it would be a greater comfort to them
than all the world besides could afford them. To whom can
a skilful physician l)e more welcome than to the sick?
Christ came to seek the lost, and such as these Ave are sent
to encourage : but tUl the soul comes to this pass, Christ is
not valued at all by it. If sinners be not made thus to
undei-stand themselves, why, though we should plead with
ever so much earnestness Avith them, we do but beat the
air; all that we can say signifies very little. The man
thinks his great work is done, though his hands have been
all thiij while in his bosom ; he is far onwards in his jour-
ney to heaven, though he never set one step out of liis own
doors ; he hath an interest in God, and is very well ac(|uaint-
ed with him, and hath an assured confidence of his condi-
tion, tliat he shall be hai)i)y, though he have not one
drachm of grace, lie is a good churchman, he hath sat at
the Lord's table, and the like. But, oh how many are there
who shall see and know that it is more than i)ossible to
come oft before God, and to compliment him much, and to
sit oft at his table, and yet not to lie any of his peculiar
friends and special acquaintance! Now, it c\i:V you would
make anything of religion, and be made highly to prize
God's favour, and to be really acquainted with him, you
nuist laljour to understand your distance from him, and the
inconceivable hazard that you run wliile you arc in a state
of separation from God ; that there is but one step l)etween
you and tlie state of the danni('(l ; for what would become
of you, if God should say to you, Tiiis night tliy soul shall
be required of you ? IIow easily can God in a moment stop
your l)reath, and send your soid and l)ody into tliat lake
tliat burns for ever ami ever! An.; is it not then time for
you to look about you? Oli tliis ignorance of ourselves,
liow doth it expose us ! He was not a whit mistaken who
said that " tlic not knowing of ourselves was one of the
chiefest causes of our sin ami misery, and that the considera-
tion of the state of the soul, and the thorougli luiderstandinij
242 IIl^AVEN UPON EAHTIi; OH,
its ilcpraveiiicuts, -was the beginning of wisdom; for its
weakness being well known, a man will not afterwards trust
it iu the determination of the greatest things; but man
will be desu-ous to consult that great oracle, the will of his
jMaker ; and finding his old guide is blind, and hath often
missed him, thereupon he is the readier to be acquainted
with such a one who may direct him in the way to true
happiness." (Ar. Epict. 1. i. c. 26.) If you would, therefore, be
acquainted with God, you must get well acquainted with
yourselves : you will, upon the knowledge of yourself, be
afraid of yourself. He was none of the weakest men Avho
said that " a true sense of folly is no small sign of some
j)roficiency in wisdom." Look unto thyself, 0 man, search
every corner, behold what abundance of armour there is in
such and such a dark cellar ; but is this armour strong
enough to encounter a God ^^•ithal ? Canst thou with these
fig-leaves defend thyself against the aiTOws of the Almighty?
Behold what a condition thou art in, if thou stirrest a step
farther! Yield speedily, and throw down thine arms, or
thou art a dead man. Do you know this ? Do you really
believe this? Is it possible] What, beheve that your
treason is found out, and that you are within a little of
executiun ; and yet not tremble, and yet not seek nor desire
a pardon! When a man thoroughly understands how
things stand between him and God, and how unable he is
to carry on a war against him, he will speedily cast about
how he may conclude a peace upon any terms. As soon as
Benhadad knew what a condition his army was in, when he
saw the crowns of his thirty kings shaken, and his warlike
captains cut in pieces, or to tremlde, and be like women ;
when, instead of a mighty army of gallant warriors in
martial order, behaving themselves bravely in the field, he
saw theh- carcasses upon heaps, their garments rolled in
blood, the shields of his mighty ones cast away, and liimself
wofully deserted, how speedily doth he send away liis
servants, with ropes about their necks, to beg" peace upon
any terms ! When the Gibeonites heard what dangerous
fighting it wag against Joshua, they were not long before
they made means to make a covenant with liim. So the
JESUS THE BEST FRIEXD OF MA>f. 243
soul, when it doth seriously consider wliat a sad condition it
is in while it continues in rebellion against God — its im-
possibility to stand it out long-, and utter inability to con-
quer him; when it perceives the designs of Satan, who
first caused this ditt'erence between the soul and God, and
hath still instigated and stirred it up to persecute with all
the violence that niiglit be; I say, when the soul sees this
before it is quite too late, oh how doth it bewail its condi-
tion, how doth it cry out, 0 wretched man that I am, who
shall deliver nic ! Oh what will become of me if I still
make war against God ! And as for flying, whither shall I
fly from his presence, and where shall I hide myself out of
his sight? And how shall 1 look Him in the face whom I
have thus desperately and ungratefully opposed ? Can such
a traitor as I possibly expect any mercy ; if the Lord should
look ujion me, and not immediately cast me into hell, it
would hn a miracle of patience. And thus the man that
begins a little U> understand himself, speaks to himself;
and after that, he, with Ephraim, sniites upm his thigh, and
bemoans his condition exceedingly. Oh that he should
ever take up arms against his gracious Prince ! Oh what
shall become of him 1 Well, I have heard that the God of
heaven is a merciful King, I will go and cast myself at his
feet; if I perish, I perish. If I contume in this rebellion,
there is no hope ; if I fly, there is no escaping ; and if I
yield, 1 can Init perish ! Oh sad, sad is my condition ! Woe
and alas, what shall I do in these dreadful perplexities'?
IJut why do I stay liere ? The avenger of blood follows
after me apace. ^Vell, I will go to my God, through Christ,
and I have heard that this is the only way, and that there
is not the least hope in the world, any other way, to get
a pardon, to escape the wrath to couu'. Oh that the
jirecious and merciful Jesus would pity me ami stand
my Friend now, if ever! Oh that he would speak a
good word for me ! " Have mercy upon rac, Jesus, tliou Son
of David, have nuury upon me!" Oil make peace for mo
by tliy blood; if thou wilt, thou canst do more with a word
8i)eaking tiian all llie .saints and angels in the world ; if
ever any poor creature in the world hud need of mercy, thou
244 HEAVEN UPON earth; OR,
have I, Oh ! mercy, mercy, mercy, for thy blood's sake !
But because I shall speak to this under another dh-ection,
I shall be the briefer. Now, when a man is at this pass, he
is in a fair way for peace ; but as long as a man is igno-
rant of all this, he is quite in another. Note, He will never
buckle, and therefore he shall be broken. Tlierefore, con-
sider well your condition, observe the acting of your own
soul ; if you be one of the friends and acquaintances of God,
•what means your breaking and hating of his spiritual laws ?
What's the reason, if you love God, that you can take no
delight at all in his company, no pleasure in liis sabbaths ?
If you are a friend of God, how is it you come no oftener to
his house, when he dwells so near you ? Why do you knock
no oftener at his door 1 Why are you so rare in your visits ?
Is this your kindness ? Is this like a friend ? How comes
it to pass that there are so many arms found hid in your
house? What are they all for? What is the meaning of
all those meetings that you give to God's enemies ? What
do all those whisperings, plots, and projects signify ? Is this
friendship ? Can you mean aiiy good by all this ? What do
you say of your condition 1 Do you ever complain, and that
feelingly, of your enmity against God 1 Did you ever observe
what a desperate wicked spirit you have against your Maker ;
and were you ever made sensible of the danger of such a
state, and ashamed and grieved to the very soul that you
should ever engage against so good a God 1 Why then, I am
confident you cannot but cry out with all the strength and
earnestness of your soul for a jieace, you cannot but desire to
meet with your Adversary quickly, while he is in the way.
But if you see nothing at all of the treachery and baseness
that is in your heart, search, and search again ; it's your ignor-
ance and blindness, and not the goodness of your state, that
makes you know nothing liy yourself. What, are you better
than David? He was so jealous of his oM'n heart, tliat he
dared not trust to his own examination of it, but he desires
the great Heart-searcher to help him in this work. Are you
more excellent than Paul after his conversion? Had he
more reason to complain of laimself than you have ? Oh, be
at leisui'e to look within and get David's caudle and lantern
JESUS THE liKST FRIEND OF MAN. 245
to go into those dark corners of your soul with it, and, it may
be, you may sec that witliin which may make your heart
ache, and your joints quiver, and your spirits faint within
you. Paul was sometimes as confident as you : he took no
notice of the enmity that was within against God, though he
•was as full of it as an asp is of poison ; yet before he became
acquainted with God, the case was altered with him; he
was of another mind wlien tliat light shone about him, and
he cried out, "Lord, what wilt thou have me to do]" lie
now thinks it is "hard kicking against the pricks," danger-
ous opposing God, and persecuting Christ in any part of his
members ; and he desires nothing in the world so much as
to be reconciled to God, and to have huu for Ids Friend whom
before he fought against as an Enemy.
DIRECTION II.
My next direction to those who would be acquainted
with God, shall be this : Get an humljle heart, which is the
consequent of the former. God will exalt none to this high
lionour of being his friends, but such as have low thouglits
of themselves. The liumble are the persons that he will
raise ; these are they that he will converse most with ; these
are the great favourites of lieaven whom God doth delight
to honour : " The Lord is nigh unto them that are of a bro-
ken heart ; and saveth such as lie of a contrite spirit," Ps.
xxxiv. 18. God is nigli unto them, (witli reverence be it spo-
ken.) God takes so mucli complacency in the company of
such, that he cannot endure to have them far from him ;
lie must liave tliem always nigh to liim, always under his
eyes: as for these broken ones, he will be sure not to leave
them long, not to go far from tliem, but will be ready at hand
to set their bones, to bind up their wounds to keep them
from festering. It may be he may i)ut them to much pain
before he brings the cure to perfection, l)ut it is to prevent
future aches. He is a foolish cruel chirurgeon, who, for fear
of i)utting his jiatient to some pain, never scaroheth tlie
wound, but skins it over ])resently: and a wise man will
not tliink him unmerciful that puts liim to exquisite i>ain,
BO he make a thorough cure of it. Thus God doth by lijs
246 HEAVEN UPON EARTH ; OR,
patients sometimes, when the nature of their distemper calls
for it. But, however, he will be sure not to be out of the
way when they want him most. It 's possible they may look
upon themselves as forgotten by God, they may not know
their Physician wlien he is by them, and they may take
their Friend for an enemy ; they may think God far ott' when
he is near; but when their eyes are opened, and their dis-
temper is pretty well worn off, they will, with shame and
thankfulness, acknowledge their error ; nay, they do from
their souls confess tliat they do not deserve the least look
of kindness from God, but to be counted strangers and ene-
mies ; but God will let them know that he loves to act like
himself, that is, like a God of love, mercy, and goodness ;
and that they are the. persons that he hatli set his heart upon;
he will have them in his bosom, never leave tliem nor for-
sake them ; and though these contrite ones many times look
upon themselves as lost, yet God will save them, and they
shall sing a song of thankfulness amongst his delivered ones.
Again, The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit : " a broken
and a contrite heart, 0 God, thou wilt not despise, Ps. li.
17. The proud sinner may bring his stalled oxen, multi-
tudes of rams and sheep, and his rivers of oil, and yet all
tliis wliile not be accepted. There is another kind of sacri-
fice that would be ten thousand times more acceptable to
God. We read that sacrifices have been despised, prayers,
long prayers, liave been rejected ; sabbaths, new moons, and
solemn assemblies the Lord hath sometimes abhorred ; but
we never read tliat he despised the sacrifice of an humble
lieart, the prayers of such always have an answer one Avay
or other; their poor performances, their chatterings and
mournings, are sweet melody and powerful rhetoric in God's
car. Who are the men that have most of God's company ?
Who are they whom he dotli most frequently visit ? Are
they not such as look upon themselves as the chiefest of sin-
ners? These are they Avho are rapt up into the tliird
heaven. None Imve so much of heaven upon earth as those
tliat wonder that the earth doth not swallow them up, and
that they are not in hell. But oh, saith the humble soul,
God is the high and mighty God, and infinite in his holiness
JESOS TflE BEST FlllENli Ul" MA.V. 247
and justice ; how then can such a creature as I ever expect
that he should so much as cast his eyes upon me ? Yes,
Bweet soul, such is the infinite condescension and goodness
of Gud, that he will sooner look upon thee than another.
And if you cannot credit my words, hear what he speaks
himself: "Thus saith the high and lofty One that inhabit-
eth eternity, whose name is Holy ; I dwell in the high and
holy place, with him also that is of a contrite and humhle
spirit, to revive the spirit of the humble, and to revive the
heart of the contrite ones," Isa. Ivii. 15. The thoughts of
God's majesty, eternity, and hohness may, and with good
reason too, awe that soul that hath low thoughts of itself.
Every sinner hath cause enough to cry out with astonish-
ment, Will God look upon such a vile sinful \vretch as I am ]
Will he that is infinite in holiness take any notice of mo,
except to show his displeasure against me ? ^SHiat shall I
do ] Sure such a creature as I cannot without a miracle have
a smile from God. God may indeed look upon me in his
WTath, and vex me in his sore displeasure; God may justly
look me into hell ; but that he should look upon me in
kindness, or take any special notice of me in love, that
would be a wonder indeed. What, God dwell with me !
Ye.s, with thee, if thou hast but high thoughts of him, and
low thoughts of thyself ; the meaner thou thinkest of thy-
fcelf, the greater worth he sees in thee. God will not only
look upon thee, nor will he only knockat thy door, and call
ut thy house, or give thee a transitory visit, but he will
come and dwell with thee. Now, dwelling speaks a con-
tinued abode with one ; and thus God will continue with the
liunible ; never remove from them, for any considerable
time, till eternity hath an end, till himself and the soul
cease to l»e, which will be never. God will not be a stran-
ger to humble souls, but he will come to them, and bring
that along with him that shall make him and them wel-
come too. God never conies to his frien<ls but he brings
good cheer along with him. When the soul gives God the
best entcrtjiinnu-nt, it is all at his cost — his bread, his fat-
lings, his wine, his oil, his cordials, his rich dainties. Where
God cornea he will keep a noble house, aud there shall be
248 HEAVEN UPON EARTH ; OK,
mirth and rich cheer in good store. " Thus saith the Lord,
The heaven is my throne, and the earth is my footstool :
where is the house that ye build unto me? and where
is the place of my rest 1 For all those things hath mine
hand made, and all those things hath been, saith the Lord :
but to this man will I look, even to him that is poor, and of
a contrite spirit, and trembleth at my Avord," Isa. Ixvi. 1, 2.
God seems to have low thoughts of heaven itself in com-
parison of an humble soul. This is the palace where this great
King will keep his court, this is the place of his rest. God
is not so much delighted and pleased in any of his brave
seats as in this of an humble heart : here he dwelleth most
commonly; this was the great purchase of his own Son;
this was the masterpiece of his power and goodness ; this
was the project of infinite wisdom and counsel. "What
shall I do to be saved ]" is a language that makes hell in a
rage, and heaven to rejoice. God is never so well pleased
as Avhen he beholds the beauty of Ids o\vn grace shining in
a poor, lost, self-debasing creature. The spouse is adorned
with humility when Christ gives her that visit, Cant. i. 4. God
hath far more kindness for one that lies under a sense of his
own vileness, that thinks himself imwortliy to tread upon
God's earth, or to breathe in his air, than for the most con-
fident-righteous Pharisee in the world. Such an humble
soul will be much in admiring God, and will set a high
price upon liis kindness. A look, a smile, a visit ! Oh, how
welcome are they to those poor trembling ones ! Where-
fore God doth with frequency and love visit them ; he knows
that he never can be unwelcome to sucli ; they will count
it the highest honour, that the Most High should come in to
them in their low condition. Wherefore, if you desire to
have any intimate acquaintance with God, laboiir to be
more and more sensible of your own unworthiness, study
your heart and nature well, and be more curious in the ob-
servance of the baseness and treachery of your own soul ;
endeavour to have as mean thoughts of yourself as Paul had,
who did not stick to call himself the chiefest of sinners.
Humble yourselves before the Lord, and he will exalt you;
he that is little in his own eye is great in God's. When was
JESUS THE BE?iT rnIEXl; OF MAN', 219
it that Jacolj mot with God, Init wlion lie had lipnn humh-
ling himself ? as you may read at your leisure, Cen. xxxii.
TJiere is many a professor that holds out many a year in a
course of external performances, and yet never knows what
it is to have any intimate ac([uaintance or converse with
God : whereas I am persuaded, if the husiness were thor-
oughly examined, it would be found that they were never made
deeply sensible of their undone state out of Christ, never uri-
derstood the desperate depravedness of their hearts and na-
ture ; that they never lay imder any lively sense of their
separation from, and enmity against, God, and they were
never brought off from their own righteousness, and saw
themselves poor, beggarly, starved creatures ; and in this
condition came to buy wine and milk without money and
without i)rice. But this humility is an excellent graoe, it
makes the soul fit for the richest enjoyments of God, and to
do God the gi-eatest service. Were it possible that God
should converse much with a proud man, he would make a
strange use of it ; he would steal God's crown, and jjut it
upon his own head ; but God would not endure proutl an-
gels near him, and can it be expected tliat he should take
jtioud men in their places? The more any one grows in
grace and acciuaintance with God, the more he sees his own
unworthiness, the more lie admires free grace. Why me,
Lord ? why me 1 will be the language of those wlio converse
with God: and while they are tims admiring God, and lay-
ing themselves low, he comes again with his soul-ravishing
kindnesses ; and thus by humility they are more acquaint-
eil nith (Jo<l, and biiiig more acquainted with God, they are
made more hunil)le; and the one increaseth the other. Thus
the liunihle soul is raised higher and higher, till he come to
an eternal p.^ssession of God in the higliest jicavens. When
an huiiiidc saint lives, as it were, iu heaven upon earth, lie
scarce thinks liimself worthy to live upon the earth. When
any one speaks well of him, and admires the grace of God
in iiini, h.e lo :)k.s upon himself as an unprotitai>le servant,
und lie durjt not assume the least gloiy to himself: >i'ot
imi.o mc, not unto me, Init unto tlic Lord be the praise-
given, Who am 1, poor wretch? Oil did you but know
250 HEAVEN UPON EARTH ; OR
what a heart I have, did j-oii but see the ■workings of my
thoughts, could you but tell how things are, indeed you
would rather admire God's patience than man's excellency !
This he speaks, not that he is worse than others, but because
he hath a more spiritual sense of his state than others have.
Neither doth he speak thus in proud policj^, thinking to make
others have a better esteem of him for his humility, but
he doth really feel the pressure of that filthiness of sin
which makes him thus groan out these complaints. The
reason why God doth converse most with the humble, is be-
cause they -will be most thankful, and most fruitful, and
make the wisest improvement of his favours. Wherefore, if
you value the comfort of a spiritual life, if you desire com-
munion with God, if you would have a heaven upon earth,
endeavour to get an humble heart. To walk humbly and
to v/alk with God go together
DIRECTION III.
If you would be acquainted with God, you must visit
him often, be much at his liouse, knock at his door many
times in a day, and resolve to continue knocking till he
open ; and if he do not come presently, wait for him ; you
would do as much for your prince, and, it may be, to a
meaner person. We cannot expect to be acquainted with
them that we will not come near. It is to no purpose for
that man to speak of acquaintance witli God, who never
speaks to him, comes to liim, or inquires after him. Neither
will a slight visit or two, in a transitory complimental man-
ner, serve the turn ; a man may do this, and yet not be said
to be acquainted with God. A stranger may come once to
your liouse who was never there before, and never intends
to come again ; and I believe you ^x\\l scarce write such a
one down amongst your special friends and intimate acquaint-
ance. So in spirituals : for acquaintance and converse with
God are no such slight things as the world commonly takes
them to be. If you would make anything of this great
work of getting acquaintance with God, you must not jest
in it, you must give God many solemn and set visits, and
carry yourself with all the observance and respect to hiu^
JESUS THE DEST FIIIEND OP MAX. 251
that you can for your soul. This is that wliich keeps many
thousands strangers from the life of grace and intimate
acquaintance with God, because they know not what those
more peculiar visits of God mean; they understand not
vdi&t it is to draw nigh to God in secret ; they come not to
him with those more spiritual acts of religion ; they piay, it
may be, in their families, and, it may be, that but seldom,
(l)ut, by the way, never let such jiretend to the knowledge
of God, who call not upon him in their families,) but what
they do, it is but in a poor formal perfunctory manner, be-
tween sleep and awake ; and will you call this acquaintance
with God I Will you call this an act of adoration and
spiritual worsliip 1 Is it to bow down a while before God,
and to read and speak a few words, and there's an end?
Their work is over, their task is done, and they are glad of
it. I'ut now, such as these do not come into God's cham-'
bei-s ; they come to his house, as I may so say, but they re-
gard not whether he be at home, wliether they speak to
God, and have an answer from God or no. They call indeed,
but desire not much to be heard ; they knock, but are not very
careful to stay till the door be opened. But alas, alas, such
as these cannot tell what it is to enjoy communion with
God. They have got, it may be, into some course of external
performances, by reason of the example of their superiors,
education, or by being under the sound of the gospel, and
from some fi>rce that natural conscience doth put upon
them^ which will not be content except something be done.
But such as these may not be said to visit God in that man-
ner tiiut I would persuade them to who would be ac-
quainted with God ; for all this they stand a great way off
from God, and may be termed strangers and foreigners.
How seldom are they upon their knees in secret! How
rare a thing is it for liiem, with Isaac, to go into the field to
meditate ! They visit their farms, they visit their flocks,
they visit their swine, they go often to visit their sottish
drunken comi)ainons, whilst God and Christ, their Bil)le. their
closet, their hearts, are forgotten, and seldom or never visited.
And is this true kindness to one's self? Is it any wisdom
to slight such a Friend as God would be to us, and to make
252 HEAVEN UPON EARTH; OR,
SO mucli of such son'y companions? Oh stupid and dull
souls ! Oh what do we mean, so strangely to forget our-
selves ! For who is like to get by it, God or we, when we
come and feed at his table, and spend upon his cost ? Oh,
little do people think what they might enjoy, would they
purposely set themselves to meet with God, and go to his
house with a strong resolution not to come away fi'om him
till they have seen him, or heard from him. Now the great
duties in which the soul may be said to visit God in, and in
which God doth many times give out much of himself to
the soul, are these : —
1. Solemn meditation.
2. Secret prayer.
3. Fasting.
4. Commujiity of experiences, and communion with the
saints.
5. The Lord's supper.
First, Meditation. When the soul doth fix itself upon the
thoughts of some spiritual and divine object, such as the
love of God in Christ, the glory of another world, &c., this
is, as it were, going out to meet the Lord, and to take a walk
with our Beloved ; this is the getting up to Mount Pisgah,
to take a survey of that goodly land. When the soul doth,
as it were, bathe itself in the contemplation of Christ's
beauty, and labours to enamoiir itself more and more
with his love, and to throw itself, as I may so say, into
that ocean of divine goodness, it will scarce leave till it be
wound up to the highest pitch of admiration of that infinite
boundless love which should do such giuriuus things for so
rebellious and unthankful a wretch as that is. Oh, what
manner of love is this ! Oh that I were sick of love ! Oh
that I might die sick of love ! Oh that I were once in the
embraces of my dearest Lord and Husband! Oh that I
could do nothing else day and night, but ])raise, love, and
admire this infinite boundless love ! And did Christ indeed
offer up his life for my sin ? Did he not think his precious
heart-blood too dear for me ? And shall I think my heart-
love too dear for him? What, for me. Lord, who am the
clUefest of sinners ! Here, here is kindness with a witness !
JKPUS THE BrST FaiEXP OF MAN'. 2u.'i
Stand still, O my soul, and .idniire; stand looking npon this
lovely sight till thou art all on tire. These are pure flames,
liere thou needest not to fear to exceed ; widen thy desires,
let thy affections run without control. JMore tire still;
blow hard, it doth yet but smoke. Oh for some coals from
the altar ! Oh for more tire, more fuel ! Oh that my heart
were vehemently inflamed in the strongest love to Him who
still deserves a thousand times more! Help me, all ye
angels, to bless and adore His marvellous loving-kindness.
Christ is a Friend to publicans and sinners indeed, or such
a one as I had never been on this side of hell. Oh love,
love, love ! What shall I render unto the Lord ? Oh that
men would bless the Lord for his goodness, and for his won-
derful works to the children of men ! Oh, what meanest
thou, 0 my soul, that thou art yet so cold ! Av.-ake, awake,
psaltery and harp ! 1 myself will awake and praise, admire
and love thee, 0 my God, whose love to my soul is beyond
expression. And thus, while the soul is musing, the fire
begins to hurn ; while the spouse is thinking of her glorious
Husband, he knocks at the door, she draws the latch, and
he comes in, smelling of myrrh, aloes, and cassia; he conies
and kisses the soul with the kisses of his lips ; his love is
better than wine ; he conns and takes tbc soul into his arms.
Oh the sweet pleasure of diviiie love, infinitely transcending
all carnal aflections! Oh tlie joy that is at this meeting,
far surpassing Innnan ap])rohension! Oh the sweet enter-
tainnaent that Clod and the soul give each other at such a
time ! I ajipeal to the experience of those that have been
much exercised in this great duty of meditation ; if they
Jiave been in good earnest in the work, I am confident they
can .say something to this ]ioint. What sayest thou, O
Christian, who art used to imitate Isa.ac? Didst thou never
meet with another guess companion than Reliekah / As he
met with a wife, so liast thou met with thy Husband?
Wlien thou hast been in the field, or closet, at this work,
hath not Christ then taken you by the hand, and led you
into his garden, and made you to tjuste of his jileasaut fruits?
Hath he not brought you into his banqueting-housc, and
brought out some of his choicest dainties I Are not those
U
254 HEAVEN UPON EARTH; OH.
■flagons more full of spirit, more cordial find refreshing than
wine 1 Oh, little do anj- but those who have tried it think
AS"hat a life they might lead, if they would with seriousness
engage iii this duty ! Speak, 0 ye gracious ones, that make
conscience of this soul-ravishing duty ; speak, I beseech yoxi,
and do not smother the kindnesses of God to you ; speak,
and let him have the praise. It may be, by your venturing
your experience, hundreds may be encouraged to set upon
the same work, and hundreds may also have the same ex-
periences. What do you say? Have you not found the
benefit of this duty 1 Did you never find meditation a sweet
work 1 Was it worth your while or no to sequester your-
selves a while from the world to talk with your Beloved 1
Did you ever repent you of your labour, and think your
time lost ? And have you not been able to say, that at
puch and such a time, when you were in the moinit, that
it was good being there ? Could you not have been almost
content to have left the dearest relations, and to have quitted
your interest in all creature-comforts, so you might have
Irad fuller enjoyments of God? Could you not have been
contented to pass from contemplation to vision and fruition?
^Vhy, speak then, for the Lord's sake, and for the sake of
precious souls, and keep not such a thing as this is in ; let
your unexperienced neighbours know what a soul-ravishing
and soul-raising duty meditation is. Let me ask you who
I'oad these lines, did you ever try what there was in this
duty of meditation ? I suppose, if you converse much with
such books as sj)eak of communion with God, you cannot
but desire something of it, and I am persuaded you have
sometimes wept since you began to read this book, to think
how little you experience ; I believe you would be glad, with
all your soul, to know what it is to be acquainted with God,
and to have such a Friend as I have been speaking of.
Why, let me ask you again, did you ever try Avhat medita-
tion is ? (You may read much of the excellency of this duty,
and directions about it, in ilr. Baxter's " Saints' Everlasting
Rest.") Did you ever get out of the world, and intensely
fix your heart and thoughts upon any of the glorious attri-
butes of God? Did you ever set before your eyes his love
JESUS THE BEST FRIEND OF MAN'. 255
in Chririt ? If not, oli try and fall to this v/oik seriously
and speedily, and you shall soon find the sweetness of it ;
you will soon say that you lost many a good meeting, many
a dainty bit for want of going for it. A carnal worldly
heart, I must confess, may possibly spoil this duty, as all
others, and grow formal in it, and be weary of it, and cast
it off, (though, let me put in this : I believe it's marvellous
rare for a hypocrite to have anything to do in such a secret
duty as this is,) but if they were true to the interest of their
own souls in the management of this work, I am confident
they would be every day more and more in lore with this
duty. For I am persuaded that when the soul is in good
earnest, nay, I can speak it positively, there is no duty doth
so much raise and warm the soul ; there is no duty wherein
the people of God enjoy his sweet company more than in
this. This opens the treasures of God's kindness ; this takes
his love-tokens, and presents them to the view of the soul ;
this unlocks the cabinets, and fetches out those precious
jewels; by this the soul doth, as it were, talk with its Be-
loved ; and in this Christ doth, as it v/ere, take the soul by
the hand, and lead it into his palace, and shows it all those
glorious things which it shall sliortly have in its possession
for ever. And how can this choose but engage the, soul to
express its gratitude to the height in answer to such love?
And when the soul is in this frame, Christ will not be be-
hindhand with her, no love shall be lost between them. If
the spouse walk out to look for her Beloved, she shall find
liim before she hath done.
Second, Another duty l)y which the soul doth visit God
in a special manner, is secret ju'ayer; by tliis the soul knocks,
and God is quick of hearing, and none of his friends
shall wait without doors so long as to catch cold. By this
the soul dotli, as it were, storm heaven ; by this it gets into
the presence-chanil)cr, and jjresents its requests. In this
duty a Christian doth, a.s it were, return the key of heaven's
doors, and l)y this he unlocks the door of his own soul ; and
BO there is free access on both sides ; the soul visits God, and
God visits the soul, and this creates an intimacy. The poor
wounded crcutiu'c opcxia Lis wouiids, and thcu the {jrcat
250 HEAVEN UrON EAKTn ; OR,
Pliysiciau comes with the hahn of Gileail. When Jacob is
thus weeping and praying alone, lie n^eets witli God, he
meets a blessing, he wrestles, he conquers. This duty of
secret prayer, and that other of meditation, are two fattening
duties, by which the souls of believers come to God's table,
and eat and drink of strengthening food ; and for want of
these, many poor souls are thin. Oh why do Christians, Avhy
do professors maintain no fairer correspondence with God in
such duties wherein he doth manifest himself more than
ordinarily to the soul ? The reason of this may be because
God accounts himself more highly honoured, and more truly
loved by them who are much in these, than by others.
By this a man doth, as it were, honour the goodness of God,
in that it shows it worth the while to steal out of the world,
and to leave the best company on earth to go to God. He
honom'S the truth of God, by being earnest for what God
hath promised, though it be unseen ; he honours the omni-
sciency of God, by contenting himself with his eye and his
ear alone ; he sanctities his omnipresence, by believing that
his God can hear him, and be with him into what corner
soever he creeps. I might be large in speaking of the
excellencies of this dut}', but I refer it rather to another place.
But I would not be mistaken in what I have delivered, as if
I would b}' this exclude &mily prayer ; no, far be it from
me; for God in this doth many times exceedingly refresh
his. But because a man cannot possibly judge so well of
liimself by public prayer, as he can by secret ; and hypo-
crisy and pride do not usually so much attend secret duty
as more public; it's possible in more public duty, that a
man may be much raised, and be very warm and high in
his expressions, and ahnost ravish the hearts of his hearers,
whereas he may be all that while acted only by a proud
lieart, and, for aught I know, the devil himself may help a
man thus to pray sometimes. This I am confident of, he is
not afraid of such prayers as these, which tend so much to
the hardening of a sinner, and make him believe that his
heart is warmed with communion with God, when, as it is
possible, it is nothing but a secret self-pleasing, that those
that joined with liini uiight think Vfiy Uishly of liini; as ouq
JESUS THE BEST FllIEXD Oi' MAN. 257
that was passing spiritual in his performances. Oh the
heart of man is deep and desperately full of deceit! But
now, there is none of this temptation in secret closet prayer,
and tliere a soul may be more particular in its complaints
and petitions, more earnest in pleading with God, and may
use sucli expostulations, postures, and gestures, such inter-
missions and groanings, such ]iauses as would be very unfit
for more public duty. Wherefore I lay somewhat the more
stress upon this duty of secret prayer. But this I say again,
where one of them is practised conscientiously, the other
will not be neglected. I might add the practice and ex-
perience of God's children to enforce this duty. David woidd
never have been at it so oft at midnight, if he liad got nothing
at all by it. Peter would scarce have forgot to eat when
he was hungry, except he had met with a bit in a corner to
stay his stomach.
Third, Fasting, especially private fasting, is another duty
wliereiu God meets the soul and the soul visits God. This
is, as it were, execution-day, the day when the soul brings
out all the enemies of God to be crucified ; this is the day
wherein tlie idols are searched for, brought out, and buried,
or ground to powder; and these are things wliich God will
come to see with much delight. By this the soul is, as it
were, adorned, her deformities done away, and she is trim-
med uj) to meet her Buloved. When a saint fasts from sin,
and abstains fi-cm sensual jilcasures, then it is many times
feasted by God and refreshed with sj)iritual enjoyments.
Foiu'tli, Anotlier season wherein God meets the soul, and
the soul is visited by God is, when Christians are met to-
gether to communicate e\i)eriences, or to discourse together
altont tlie great things of God. What thougli most of the
world are ashanu'd to own religion wiien it is out of fasiiion !
Wliat though but few dare meet togetlier to speak of God's
fondness, and to praisi? Iiini an<l call u\»n\ his name ! Why,
Clirist says, thougli tiiere I>c but tw(j or three of them, lio
will make tlie nundjer one the more, he will be in the midst
of them. And though they tlare but wlusper, it may be,
and their nu'ctings to oliserve God and do good to one
another m.iy be prohibited l)y the public nnigistrate, and
2jS heaven upon earth ; or/
consequently what they do in this kind must be done in a
great deal of hazard, yet the people of God stand not long
disputing, they know what to do in this case ; yet they
would be wise in it too. Not to dare the magistrate, and to
do what they do to confront the authority, but in the up-
rightness of their souls they desire to meet together to wor-
ship God according to his own will. Yet for all this, though
they manage their business with never so much secrecy,
God will take notice of them ; he hearkens and hears, and a
book of remembrance is written for them that call oft upon
his name, and God will make them up among liis jewels.
But I shall have occasion to speak of something to this pur-
pose afterwards, and therefore I uass it over the more
briefly.
Another time wherein the Lord is pleased to discover
much intimacy and endeared affection to his people, is in
the sacrament of the Lord's supper. This is the great jiass-
over; and it cannot be un\velcome news to the poor Israelites,
to hear of redemption from worse than Egyptian bondage,
instead of being burdened with barlmrous task-masters, to
be made free, rich, and honourable, and to see the strength
of the enemy laid in the dust. It is not for nothing that
this passover is to be had in everlasting remembrance. If
I should appeal to the people of God that have kept this
solemn feast, and ask them how their hearts \vere afif'ected,
do they not all bow their heads and hearts, and adore that
goodness that should save, feed, and feast them, and punish,
kill, and damn others 1 Are there not thousands that can
tell you, that Christ's flesh is bread indeed, and his blood
drink indeed ? No j^rovision so great, no banquet so sweet,
so noble ; no entertainment comparable to that which the
princely Jesus givcth to his spouse in that ordinance ! The
King brings her into the banqueting-house, and his banner
over her is love ; she is then made to understand that the
kisses of liis lips do breathe life, and that his visits at sucli
a time usually leave behind them more special testimonies
of tlie largeness of his heart, the loveliness of his nature,
and of his matcliless excellency. Speak, Christian, what
dost thou say to tliis 1 Canst thou not subscril^e to this ?
JESOS THE BEST FllIEND OF MAN. 259
Art tlioii not able to say, that then thou hast tasted and
seen 1 Couldst thoii not then go out and invite all the poor
starved hungiy souls in the world, to come, and see, and
taste ? Art thou not aljle to say. Come, and I will tell you
what Christ hath done for my soul 1 Let me ask that saint
who hatli been feasted many a time and oft, what he
thought of his entertainment. Were you not made wel-
come i Was not the joy of the Lord your strength 1 Was
not the provision that the world entertains its fiiends with,
but mean, coarse, unsavoury, compared witli it ? Which was
best, — the husk, or the bread and fiitted calf, th">, garlic
and onions, or the manna, the milk and honey ? 'Tis not
without cause that the faces of some do shine ; their looks
speak tlieir face none of the nieancst, and their activitj' is
not a disparagement to their Keeper. In(|uire further, and
you shall be informed, if their experience be not too big
to be clothed in wortls, how oft have some of Christ's
favourites, after tliey have dined ■with their Loi-d, l)een led
forth into the garden to walk ; and, oh the delightful shades
that they have sat under! At another time, Christ, not
Satan, hutli carried tliem, as it were, in his arms and bosom,
and set them upon the piiniacle of tlie temple, not to make
them giddy, and hazard their ffill, but to let them under-
stand how uiucli he had preferred them before others,
and as long as they are upon that great Corner-stone, no
storms can shake, in Christ's arms no fear of falling. At
another time, the soul liath been carried into the mount of
iOod, and there it hath seen Christ transhgured, and beheld
so much brightness, glory, and jnajesty in him, that hath
reflected a glory u[)on itself, and even transiigiu-ed the soul,
that it's scarce like itself, and tliere it could siy, It's good
being here ; and then Christ hath bid tlie soul lift up its
eyes and look iij) to the heavens, look roimd from one side
to the other, and look heyond the visible heavens, by faitii,
to the seat of the l)lessed. Well, all this is thine, to tlico
will I give it, I i)urcha.sed it, I have ])aid for it, and 'tis
thine; and live like one that is worth nioii; tli;in a woild;
live up to your estate; expect that shortly I should i-ct
you in liie possession of all. And aa for thti Vtorld,
260 HEAVEN UPON EAKTH ; OR.
look down upon that; if it be M-orth the accepting, so
much of it as is good for thee thou shalt have also. Oh, did
weak Christians but know wliat strength, joy, and comfort
this ordinance doth afford, I believe they would not be so
hardly persuaded to come when tliey are invited ! Did they
but understand how sweet, how wholesome, how dainty the
dishes are which wisdom prepares ; could they but conceive
what satisfaction and fuhiess there is for the empty, wliat joy
and solace for the mourning and disconsolate, wliat strength
and quickening for the weak, I am ready to think that they
woidd scarce be so long absent from the Lord's table. But
think not that every one that sits down is made so welcome,
or that Christ gives his dainties to strangers or enemies;
many may come and receive, and not only feed upon a piece
of bread, and drink two or three spoonfuls of wine; and
really, if this were all the provision that a saint were to have,
it were scarce Avorth so solemn an invitation. It's possible
to come thither to eat and drink yom- own damnation, and,
instead of an affectionate treatment, to be chsmissed with a
" Friend, how comest thou liither, not having on the wed-
ding-garment ]" Yet the sensible, hungry, burdened souls,
notwithstanding all their fears, may come, nay, they must,
and it's little less than giving assent to Satan's calumnies,
which he raiseth against Christ and his ways, to forbear; it's
too ungrateful a contempt of one of the excellent cordials
which the great Physician hath provided for the recovering
and strengthening of his poor swooning patients ; and, in a
word, it's too like being foolislily fond of our sin and sorrow,
when we refuse tlie comfortalde appointment wliich the
goodness and wisdom of a Father, the h)vc and tenderness
of a Husband, and the sweetness of the Holy Spirit, doth so
freely offer, persuade, and connnand. The Spirit saith.
Come, and the Eridegroom saith. Come, and wliy should not
he that is athirst come thankfully, humldy, speedily ? Well
now, poor weary soul, what liast thou to say against the
excellency of rest '? Poor sick soul, wliat fault canst thou find
with ease, health, and strength '? Poor guilty soul, that look-
est upon tliyself as next to condemned, what harm would a
pardon, and the public seaUng of it, do thee ? Who ANOuld
JESUS TUE DKST FUIEKJJ 01' MAX. 261
think that man hunpy that had rather cat ashes tlian
hread ? Who would j udge that person thh-sty that had rather
drink gall, tears, and wormwood, than the clear refreshing
streams that come from that rock, the Lord Christ] WiU
you never hclieve that Christ invites you? Look into thf
note that he hath sent out his sei-vants with. Whose name
do I read there ? Who are the persons that arc invited ? Of
what rank and quality ? Arc they the great ones of the
worl 1 I Are they the learned ? Are they the proud and
self-conceited Pharisees ] Why, I find none of these in the
writing. Who are they, then, that may come with confi-
dence to draw water out of these wells of consolation ] The
poor in spirit, the hungry, the sick, the wounded, the lost ;
these are pools of Bethesda, where the angels of the covenant
do oft descend and move the waters ; and where is it fitter
for the impotent to lie, than there where they cannot
miss of a doctor, a visit, or cure ? What do you think of this,
poor heart? Are they hut flourishes? Do I speak, or doth
Christ ? And if he say it, who can disannul it I Will he, can
he be worse than his word ] I know he is usually better,
but never short of his promise. Will you credit the expe-
riences of Christians? Have they not seen, have they not
known, have they not felt, yea, have not all their spiritual
senses been exercised and refi-eshed at that time when the
King hath been at his taljle? One is ready to say, If ever
I ccmld have left the world at a minute's warning, and have
stept immediately into eternity, it was then when mine
eyes beheld the King in liis beauty, when he held out his
golden Hcei)tre unto me, and took me into his embraces.
Yea, when the ministers of Christ presented me with the
jewels and bracelets, and asked me whether I would i;o
with tlicm to Clirist, my soul ma<le a speedy and thaiildiil
reply. My heart and love are his, and his will 1 be for ever.
Oh that I were once safe is his arms! Oh that I might
live with him, and never part ! Oh, when shall it be I
Come, Lord .Ies\is, come quickly. I remember I have heard
it reported of tliat reverend and holy man of Uod, JMr.
AUeine, (who lived at as high a rate as most on this side pcr-
ffcti( n and ylory,) that he was, before he died, in very rare
262 HEAVEN urON EAIITH ; OB,
seraphic raptures of joy and love, so that he could not choose
but burst out into unusual expressions of praise, such as
these : " Ten thousand praises to the King of saints for the
freeness and riches of his grace to ray poor soul ; let every
corner of heaven ring with hallelujahs ; let all the angels
help me to praise tlie incomparable, lovely, and glorious
Jesus ! Oh the joys that he feasts my soul with ! Who
would not be Christ's servant! Never did I feel such
transcendent, pure, divine joys, except at the Lord's table ;
and then indeed I have been oft so raised in spirit, that my
nature, except sustained by a miracle, could scarce bear a
greater weight of comfort. Oh the imspeakable, vast, satis-
fying pleasures that Christ in that ordinance doth afford
some of his sometimes !" I have heard another dear brother
say, that for some years together, he scarce ever failed of
some notable token of love at that great ordinance. But I
would not, instead of comforting and encouraging the poor
saint, bring him into greater fears and dcspondings. Judge
not, therefore, that this is the portion of all God's children,
nor of any, at all times to have such large discoveries as
these. Heaven is reserved for heaven ; some have a single
mess, some a double, some live times more than their breth-
ren. Let all be thankful if the great Joseph, instead of a
prison, give a feast, and in it make himself known to us to
be our Brother ; let us love him, admire his condescension,
and be ready to wonder that he doth so much for us, rather
than repine that he doth more for others. If thou hast
some drawings, and longings, and mournings after Christ,
and a deep sense of thy hardness, unbelief, and worldliness,
be thankful ; it may be this is more wholesome entertain-
ment, and fitter for the present temper and constitution of
thy soul, tlian those flagons of wine ; j^erhaps they would
fly up into thy head, and make thee giddy, proud, and
wanton. If thou be but Avell wrought, poor, and hungry,
thou wilt he thankful for a little ; and a crumb that falls
from the table to a humble soul, is l)etter entertainment
than it knows it deserves, or could, without a miracle of
kindness, have expected. ]\Iistake me not, as if I would
liave Christians sit down satisfied with little or no comfort
JESUS THE BEST FUIESD OF MAX. 2t)3
at that ordinance ; no, 'tis quite another desigii that I am
carrying on ; 'tis only a liint to quell ingratitude ; my great
work at present is to quicken diligence in preparation, and
to raise the saint's valuation of that ordinance, and his ex-
pectations from Christ in it. I say again, Christ usually
proportions Ids entertainment to the diligent, faithful,
humble preparations of the soul to meet him ; they that
trim their lamps, and have oil in them, are most like to
meet that Bridegi-oom with joy; he that hath on the wed-
ding gai'ment cannot miss of a welcome, and the good and
faithful servant is most likely to have the jMaster's com-
mendation, and to enter into liis joy. But more or less,
every sincere soul, at one time or another, will meet with
refreshment at that supper ; and amongst all the rare dishes
that are served up, no question but some will be suitable,
(if not all) to a hungry, spiritual stomach. I can scarce
leave this sweet sulyect. The time draws nigh, and the ser-
vants are sent out to invite, and thou, 0 my soul, art one
of the g\iests that are bidden. Hark, methinks I hear a
royal proclamation, "Whosoever is atliirst, let him come
and drink of the waters of life freely." Methinks the silver
trumpet of the gospel and divine love sounds a jubilee.
jMethinks the air echoes with a strange hai-mony, somewhat
like tluit, Luke ii. 14, " Glory to God in the highest, and on
earth peace, good will toward men." Do not tlie very
heavens ring with these blessed words, A Saviour ! a Saviour !
a mighty Redeemer ! a jiardon ! a jjardon ! liberty ! liberty !
a glorious lil)erty! And again tlie congregations of the
saints and redeemed ones cry, Hallelujah! hallelujaii ! lialle-
lujah ! I ha<l thought to have done, but the feast is so
sweet, I must fall on again. Here is jio surfeiting, the
more I feed, the more hungry; and yet tiio more satis-
fied, the more delighted. Here is nothing but fulness;
sweetness and love may lie written upon every dish ;
the royal, nol)le, everlasting l)ouuty may be jjroclaimed be-
fore every course. All the dismal bonds are thrown in and
cancelled; all our debts forgiven and ])uid ; the great Surety
shows the aciiuittance long hineo granted in the court of
Iicaven, now it's given iu to the court of conscience. The
264 HEAVEN UPUX KAUTll ; Oil,
bloody war is concluded by a happy and firm peace : God
is no longer a Judge, an Enemy, but now the soul hears
such words. Friend, Father, Husband. The challenges of
law, conscience, and Satan, are now silenced, the indictments
against the soul are all quashed ; the soul may now walk at
liberty, and fear no arrest. Who can lay anything to the
cliarge of God's elect / It is Christ that justifies, who can
condemn ? Christ says it, swears it, seals it ; it cannot but
be true. Why art thou then cast down, poor soul, and Avhy
art thuu disquieted ? Christ hath made a blessed exchange
with thee, he hath drank the bitter cup, and oilers thee the
sweet, which is spiced with grace and love ; Christ hath
purchased the crown for thee, and taken the cross to him-
self; he took the rags, and gives thee the robes ; he became
poor that thou mayst become rich ; he emptied himself that
thou mayst be hlled; he was esteemed as nothing, that
thou mightest from worse than nothing possess all things;
and what now remains, but that, with the greatest gratitude,
thou acccptest of Christ's offer, whensoever he invites thee to
his table I What doth better become thee, than the fullest
acceptance of the highest kindness, and a grateful closure
with all the overtures of divine goodness? Oh happy are
the people that are admitted to this intimacy ! Happy are
the souls that know the worth, the use of this ordinance,
and make it their business wisely to improve it. Oh what
an opportunity have such of Christ here ! What ref^uest
may they not then have granted ! And wdien Christ is
giving, what will he, what can he deny them wlio have his
heart already I I have been the more large in this, because
it was the particular request of one of my Itrethren, a reve-
rend minister, that in the next edition I would not forget
that ordinance in Aviiich God usually doth most signally
discover his love to his people.
DIRECTION IV.
If 3'ou would get acquaintance with God, get Christ
along M-itk you, when you go to God. You are like to speed
no way so soon as this way ; nay, let me say, all that I have
said before signifies nothing at all without this. There is
3V.9VS Tnr. EEST Fr.TrXD OF MAN'. 265
no name undor lieavcMi by ■which we can bo saved l)iit by
the name ot Christ ; and wliosoever comes to tlie Fatlier by
him, he will in no wise cast out. God cannot deny his own
Son anythinti, l;e can never forgot that ureat undertaking of
his, by wliich lie gloriiied his Father's intinite justice and
infinite love, and did him more honour than all the saints
and angels in the world. His Son, the Lord Christ, hatli
such an interest m his Father, that he can as soon despise
liis own honour as refuse any request that is presented
to him by his Son. If Christ come unto him, and say, Fa-
ther, here is a poor sinner that I have undertaken for, and
that flew to me for i-cfuge, look upon him fur luy sake ; why,
tlie Father's arms are presently open ; he will not reject his
Son's petitions. The truth of it is, this is the gi-eatest cause
of the miscarriages of poor creatures, that go about to do that
themselves, and by themselves, which they can never do alone.
They go to God all alone, and no wonder than they meet
with a frown ; for there is no name under heaven by wliich
a man can be saved but by the name of Christ; and out of
Christ, God is a consuming fire ; and tliere is but one Me-
diator, the j\hiii Christ Jesus ; and there is but one Advo-
cate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous. Tliat
which Joseph said of Hcnjamiu, (lod saith of Christ, Except
you l)ring Benjamiu along with you, you shall not see my
face ; P^xcept you bring Christ along with you, you shall not
see my face. There is a notable story which is comiiKJiily
by divines applied to our p»*esent purpose, and that not
without good reason : it is concerning a law among the
Molossians, where whosoever came to the king with his son
in his arms should l)e accepted into favour, iet his fault be
what it might. So let a ni.iu be what he will before, yet if
]\e come to' God in Christ, lu; cannot be thrust away. Oh
tberefurc, if thou wouldst have any cduntenance from God,
beg for a Christ to ))ear thee ciinipany into tlic presence of
God. I will tell you this fur your cumtort. Christ hath a
loving design in his lieart to do sucii oliiccs of kindness for
poor malefactors that understand something f)f their danger.
If you see yourself lost for want of I'econciliation with God,
Christ stands ready to lead yyu inty \m Fiithcr'a house. Oh
2G6 HEAVEN rrPON earth; OR,
did you but know how willing lie is to bring undone lost
penitents to God, it would make your heart leap within you
for joy. Behold how oft he asks after you. What doth that
sinner mean to ruin himself? I would vdih all my heart
bring liim out of all those j^erplexities, and undertake to
make God and him friends, if he would be but ruled by me ;
and iqjon this account he sends up and down many lum-
dreds of his ministers to tell sinners as much, that they may
not be undone everlastingly. Doth not wisdom call 1 Doth
not Christ plead the case, and expostulate with sinners?
And who would not, that hath any understanding at all of
his state out of Christ, with all possible thankfulness be en-
couraged to accejit of his kindness ? Christ hath done as
much as tliis comes to already for many millions, and his
Father never said to him, Sen, why do you trouble yourself
and me with so many of these wretched creatures ? let them
alone to take their course. Where did God ever express
himself in this manner ? Did he ever take it unkindly that
his Son should every day bring such guests to his house, and
be continually begging one boon or other for them, or put-
ting lip some petitions upon their account, or pleading with
his Father for them when they do offend 1 Is God dis-
pleased at such work as this ? Is he not as willing to I'e-
ceive such as his Son is to luring them ? and both Father
and Son more willing to save the sinner than he is to be
saved ? Oh kindness ! Christ loves the sinner better than he
loves himself! And as I said before, so I say again, the Fa-
ther doth not grudge anything that Christ gives or doth for
poor sinners. The righteousness of Christ is that wedding-
garment in which we may sit at the King's table, and are
welcome ; these are the robes of our elder Brother, in which
we cannot miss of our Father's blessing. Oh how many
]ioor creatures have walked in the dark many years, because
they have n<jt been brought off from themselves, but have
sought that by themselves which is to be sought only by
Christ ; because they have looked for that in the law which
is to be found only in the gospel ! And no wonder their busi-
ness went on so slowly, when they went the rpiite contrary
way to work. When any come ta God without Cluist, they
JESTJS THK BEST FRIEXD OP MAX. 26?
come, like Simon Magus, with their own mouoy in their
hand to buy a great commodity, wliich is not to be pur-
chased with such kind of coin. If you come to God through
Christ, you may come with bohhiess to the throne of grace ;
but if you come without him, you do Imt come with mad-
ness upon the point of the flaming sword.
DIRECTION V.
If you would be acquainted with God, come much where
he is wont to be, fi-equent his house, lie always at the doora
of wisdom, engage much in his ordinances. This was that
course which David took when he wanted God's company;
away he goes to the house of God ; and, oh what earnestness
doth he use, when the doors of tlie Lord's taberracle were
shut, to get them open again ! ^'V hat moans doth he make,
when he was for some time sequestered by hie enemies
from the enjoyment of God in his public ordinances ! " As
the hart jjants after the water-brooks, so did his soul pant
after God, the Uving God." Uli, when should he appear be-
fore him 1 When should he again behold the out-goings of
God in his sanctuaiy, as sometimes lie had 1 " How amiable
are thy tabernacles," saith he, " 0 Lord God of hosts !
And one thing have I desired, and that will I seek after,
that I may dwell in thy house, and see thee, and inquire
in thy tabernacle," Ps. xlii. ; Ps. xlviii. ; Ps. xxvii. 4. He
tliought God was like to be found nowhere so soon as
at liis own house ; he was sure he was never from home.
l)avid can never forget what usage and entertainment he
was wont to have there, and that this great Friend was
used to have a standing tat)le, an oj)eu house ; and that when
his guests were set, he would come and bid them welcome:
" liat, 0 friends, drink, yea, drink abundantly, 0 beloved."
Sec tlien that you get into that part of God's house where
lie doth most fi-equently come. Get imder the most power-
ful ministry. Oh hear the word with all the reverence, at-
tention, and affection that you can for your soul ! Miss not
any o])portunities that God jiuts into your hand, lest that
should be the time in which you might liave met with God.
Lie at the pool uf Bethesda, uud wait for the moving of thd
2fi8 HEAVED' LTOX EAKTH ; OR,
waters. Set yourselves in the liouse of God, and romemljcr,
though you see not God, that he is always present in all
places, but lie is there more especially present, where liis
people meet together to attend upon him in his own ordi-
nances. Wherefore, when you come to hear the word, set
yourself as in the presence of God, and hear as for your life
and soul. " Set your hearts unto all the Avords which I tes-
tify among you this day ; for it is not a vain thing for you,
it is your life," Dent, xxxii. 46, 47. " Hearken diligently
unto me, and eat ye that which is good, and let your soul de-
light itself in fatness. Incline your ear, and come unto me ;
hear, and your soul shall live : and I will make an everlast-
ing covenant with you, even the sure mercies of David," Isa.
Iv. 2, 3. He that hath ears to hear, let him hear what the
mighty Jehovah is speaking to his soul. Wherefore I say
it again. Set youi'self as in the very immediate presence of
God ; and when you hear a word that you are very nearly
concerned in, put up such a short ejaculation as this: Now
Lord, strike this hard heart of mine ; now Lord, come in, I
beseech thee ; oh that this word might be the key which
might open my heart for the King of glory to come in ! Oh
C(3mraand thy loving-kindnestj this day to break into my
soul! Oh th^it this might be the day in which salva-
tion might come unto my house ! Oh that this might be
tlie man that might be my spiritual father, that this
might be the messenger, one among a thousand, that may
bring me good tidings ! Oh that this might be the sen-
tence, that this might be the hour of love ! Oh that this
]night be the day that I may have in everlasting remem-
brance ! Oh that I might presently, without any more de-
lay, set out for Canaan ! Cry out, with as much earnestness
as that poor man did who brought his possessed child be-
fore Christ, 0 Lord, I have brought my unbelieving heart
before thee to cure ; it exposes me a thousand times to un-
speakable hazards ; but, Loi'd, if thou wilt but speak the
word, it shall be dispossessed : I would believe ; Lord, help
my iinbelief. I have brought my hard heart before thee ;
Lord, soften it, and let me not go from time to time with
thesje dreadful diseases hanging about me, to infect and uu-
JESUS THE BEST FRIEND OP MAX. 269
rio myself ami others. Oh melt me, 0 Lord, melt me, and
let me liave such a look from thee as Peter once had, which
made him go out and weep hitterly ! But I shall speak a
little more of this nature under another direction.
DIRECTIOX VI.
If you would 1)0 acquainted with Ood, you must get
acijuaintcd with sunic of liis friends; and they will do all
tliey can, and be glad of it too, to hcl]) you to be acquainted
with him ; they will not spare to give you their utmost assist-
ance in this great Imsiness. And when they shall hear you
asking what you shall do to know God, they are glad at
their heart, and will not be at quiet till they have got you
home with them to their Fatlier's house; they watch for
your soul, and no greater joy than to help forward such a
work as this, than to be employed any way in the service of
your souls. They are glad when they hear any saying. Let
us go to. the house of the Lord, and asking the way to Zion
with their faces thitlicrward. Oh ! Christian society, good
comjjany, is of exceeding use ; one good servant in a house,
the whole family may fare the better for him. Laban and
Potiphar, tliough ignorant enough in spirituals, could not
but ob.serve this, that the L(;rd Ijlessed their families for the
sake of one godly sei-vant. I do not speak this only with
respect to teinjxjrals, because of that diligence and faithful-
ness in their places that religion will put them upon ; but
with respect to si)irituals: they will be drojjping something
that may tend to tlie awakening and convincing of their
sleepy, uubelieviug, ignornnt companions ; they have an
inward princii)lc which puis them upon communicating
what gi-dce they have received ; they know, the more they
impart tootlier.s, the more they shall have themselves; they
have a comjiassion fin' souls, and wouM fain have as many
as they can along with them to heaven ; they will b(! teach-
ing little children to pray, and instilling something, that the
Vciy l)abus may set forth God's praises, and they will be
pleading witii God for tliein. But this only by the bj'.
Now, if those tliat are gracious enrjeavour what tliey can to
bring in those that are open enemies, how much more will
270 HEAVEN UrON EARTU ; Oil,
thej' be ready to give all the help they can to yon that
earnestly desire it ! Now, when any one comes to this pass,
that he sees a difference between the godly and the wicked,
and to say that the righteous is more excellent tlian his
neighbour, and to liave an earnest desire to associate him-
self with them, it is a very great sign that God hath an
intention to do such a soul good. Wherefore, if you would
be brought to the knowledge of God, go speedily to them
that know liim well ; and they will tell you great things of
him, and how they came first acquainted with him, and how
this acquaintance hath been kept ; they will tell you where
they first met him, they will give you to understand that
at such and such a time, when they little thought of God,
they were strangely brought acquainted with him. When
they came (out of fashion or curiosity, oi to laugh at Iiiin
that taught them, or it may be to pick some quarrel with
him) to hear such a man, they were made to see what they
never took any great notice of before, that they were in an
undone condition by nature, and that except Christ would
pity them, there was no remedy, but to hell they must go ;
whereas before they thought themselves as safe as could be.
But then they saw that it was no light matter to be out of
Christ, and aliens from the commonwealth of Israel. After
this they were made to understand sometliing of Christ's
undertaking for poor lost sinners, and they heard of his
exceeding willingness to receive the chiefest of sinners ; and
that then they began to see an excellency in his love and
goodness, and to be somewhat move taken with the kind-
ness of Christ than ever they were before, and they felt
some longings after the precious Jesus: oh that they
had but a Christ for tlieir souls ! And that after this they
were, by the Spirit of God, in some measure enabled to cast
themselves at the feet of Christ for merc^', and that upon
his own tei-ms, knoA\ing that if mercy came nut that way to
them, tliey must sink for ever ; and that upon tliis act of
recumbency, after they liad for some time waited upon God
in the way of his ordinances, they began to taste and relish
the things of God, and at last they met hiui whom their
Kouls loved. Inquire of them, I say, and they will talk
JESUS THE BEST FRIEND OF MAN. 271
thus to yon, and tell you also that there was a time wherein
they were foolish, disobedient, and unto every good work
rejirobate, and miserably neglectful of their souls ; that they
did not at all niind their eternal welfare, but made light of
Christ, made a mock of sin, and made nothing of eternal
damnation. And they will direct and encourage you also.
Let me tell you, they have an interest in God, and their
prayers for you Tuay be more advantageous than you are
aware of. Yet I a\ ould not that you should make Christs
of the saints, nor forget what is the work of the Mediator
alone. Saints are to be valued, but Christ is to be valued
infinitely more. Get acquainted ^\^th some warm, rare, ex-
l)erienced Christian, and make him j'our bosom fi'iend, and
observe him, and you shall see much of the beauty of reli-
gion shining in him, and you shall see how cheerfully and com-
forfaI)lyhe walks; now ask him what Iris practice is, and go
you and do likewise. Have a care of harbouring ill thoughts
of the people of God, or, for the sake of one hypocrite, of
censuring a thousand sincere Christians. Judge you whetlier
this be just and equal doing. How would you like it, if one
that bears some relation to you shoidd do some vile abomina-
ble thing, and bring him.self to an untimely end, and people
should say the whole family is like him, though it
may be you are grieved to the very heart that such a thing
should be done by any in the world, much more by any
tliat bears any kind of relation to yourself? I tell you, an
contemptibly as the world speaks of the godly, they are not
sucli odious creatures as they arc rejjresented to be. The
saints are not troulilers, 1)iit peace-makers; they love to
make peace between man and man, ami, what in them lies,
also l)etween God and man. Your converse with such as
fear the Lord will make you like them, at least they will
endeavour as much. He sjioke no untruth who said that
"company is of an assimihitiiig natnre. A living coal laid
to a heap of dead ones may kindle them all ; but they are
more like, except it be blown up, to put the live one quite
ont." (Ar. Kpict. 1. iii. c. 16.) " Therefore," saith the same
author, "}'oii must be very cautious of your company." It
is Btoried of yoci-atos, that he had a rare art of making his
272 HEAVEN UPON EAllTH ; OK,
familiar fricntls of lils miml. Some active Clivlstians take
great pains to make their familiars of Christ's mind. " He
that walketh with wise men shall be Avise: Imt a com-
panion of fools shall he destroyed," Prov. xiii. 20. " The
tongue of the just is as choice silver: the heart of the
wicked is little worth. The lips of the righteous feed many :
but fools die for want of A\isdom. The lips of the righteous
know what is acceptable: but the mouth of the wicked
speaketh frowardness," Prov. x. 20, 21, 32. Such as these
■will do what they can to make you out of love with sin,
and in love with God. Such as these will, from their own
experience, be setting forth the goodness of God, and tell
you that which may stand you in stead as long as you live ;
it may be they may tell you, that when God began first to
work upon their soul, he was pleased to make use of the
particular application, and the spiritual conversation of such
a Christian relation ; and when God came in with comfort,
and spake peace, such a one led them to such a promise,
which was like a cordial to their fainting soul. When they
were abroad, (they will tell you,) and were necessitated to
tl^e company of them who were strangers to the life of re-
ligion, and were at such a time troubled with horrible
temptations, that they were in a wilderness-condition, and
thought that never any that walked heavenward could be
in the like state ; but now, when they got acquainted with
the people of God, they found, that as face answered face
in a glass, so then- experience and the experience of many
of the dear children of God were exactly alike ; and that
that which they thought none in the world could parallel,
they find that most of the Christians they meet with
know as well as themselves, and at the first hearing, are
able to go on with the story before them; so that they
have sometimes wondered how any one living should know
their hearts and thoughts so well, to whom they did not
communicate them. I think it not altogether impertinent
here to insert an observation of mine own. I remember,
when I was once speaking concerning*the duty of Christians
in relation to their unconverted friends, and urging them
up«n doing what they could for God and souls, in the
JESUS THE BEST FRIEND OF MAN. 273
places where God hath set them: in speaking- to this suh-
ject, I said, that there was not the meanest Christian but
might be an instrument of the conversion of a souh Upon
this, I rehearsed a couple of experiences that I liad of two
persons, strangers one to tlio other, who gave tliis account
of their conversion ; they were upon the matter both ahke,
and therefore I shall tell but one of them, which take as
follows : There was a poor, civil, yet very carnal creature,
a servant in a religious family, who did from liis soul abhor
the spiritual conversation of those in the family, insomuch
that he was resolved to run away from his service, he was
so weary of such doings. But one night, hearing a strange
sound somewhere, he arose out of his bed, and went to
listen what was the matter : upon Avhich, he heard one dis-
tinctly praying on the other side of the wall ; he, still heark-
ening, heard one praying very earnestly for him, (who did
not know but that he might be asleep,) and oi)ening the
condition of his soul so particularly, and with so much ten-
derness, that he was wonderfully awakened, to think that
one that he hated should so much lova him and jiity liis
soul, and to consider Ikjw it was possible any one in tlie
world should know his thoughts so well as that person did
who prayed for him. Upon this he began to be very much
stiirtled to think of his condition, concluding thus. Surely
I am in a lamental)lo state, and they see it, or else they
would never do as they do ; they ai'c j)raying for ]ne when
I am asleej), tliey love mo when I hate them. Upon this
the man was very much troubled, and Ins trouble daily
increased, till he was forced to open his condition to the
l)erson who liad been ])raying for him, who was a i)oor
maid-servant: ujion which the work of regeneration was
carried on vei-y sweetly, and the man became an excellent
C'ln-istian ; whereas the instrument that God used in this
great work was but a poor servant. Now, when 1 rehearsed
tliis thing, wliicli was the condition of two, as I said bifnre,
a third person stood by, (whom I never saw in my life be-
fore,) who fell a-sweating for trouble that any of his friends
Bliould tell such a thing of him to me, and thought I had
meant liimself in all the particulars, tliougli I heard not a
274 HEAVEN irPOX EAKTH ; Olt,
word of the man before in my life. Tliis l)y tlie by. I
could not but hint this for the encouragement of parents to
get their children into fiimilies that are really religious, and
to encourage all to associate themselves to such as fear the
Lord. You see by what liath been spoken, that acquaint-
ance with the people of God may be of great use for the
bringing the soul acquainted with God.
DIRECTION VII.
If you would be acquainted with God, entertain all the
messengers that he sends to you kindly. When God calls,
answer, and when he sends any of his servants to you, bid
them welcome ; let the feet of those who biing glad tidings
be beautiful in your eye ; do not think much if tliey deal
plainly and i-oundly with you ; know that it is out of love
to your souls, (God is their witness ;) they see that your
condition requires it, and that a man in your state is not to
be jested with. The Lord knows that they take little
pleasure in grieving people ; they do it that you may rejoice
for ever ; they Avatch for your souls, and therefore you must
account them worthy of double honour. Eut of all the
messengers that God sends, have the greatest care of dealing
unkindly with and grieving his Spirit; when you have any
motions upon your soul by the Spirit, labour to cherish
them with all the care and tenderness that you can : turn
not convictions away with, I am not at leisure ; or, I vAW
hear you of these things when I have a more convenient
season : but as soon as you find your heart begin to relent,
cry out unto tlie Lord, and say, 0 Lord, I beseech thee,
carry on thy work effectually \i\>on my soul. Oh that I
may have thorough Avork ! Oh let not these convictions
wear off from my soul, till they end in a real conversion !
Oh let me not prove but a half-Christian ! Anything in
the world. Lord, so that I may but be made a Christian in
good earnest ! Oh let me not return with the dog to his
vomit, and with the sow that is washed to her wallowing in
the mire ! Deliver me, 0 God, from sinning away these
things, and getting into a cold world, and from shaking off
all, lest I prove worse than ever, and my latter end be more
JESrS T1[E r,F..>T FRIEXl) OP XfAN'. *2 1 it
!nIseral)lo than my lioi^iuuiui;-. Laboui- to he voiy cmious
in tlie taking notice of Ood's absence or presence ; and when
yon find your soul raised in any duty, and your lieart some-
what drawn out after God, then ho sure to own God's good-
ness, and bless the Lord for it ; record his kindness, forget
not his mercy, pass not over sucli great things in silence.
Little do men tliink what a hazard they run when they
quench the motions of God's Spirit. You may read in Cant.
V. how dearly tlie spouse had like to have paid for such an
Uiikindness. What, shall God send his Spirit to visit you?
Shall the infinite Majesty so far condescend as to knock at
yom- door, and will not you open ] "Why then, you may
thank yom-selves if he never knock more. But if you will
now open to him, he will come in to you, and sup with you,
and you shall sup with him.
DIRECTION viir.
Seek his acquaintance most earnestly, if you would have
it. Oh, wliy do mi'U and women jest with matters of the
greatest weight and importance in the world! What do
])eople mean, to play with their souls, the wrath of God, and
damnation ! 0 sinners, have you nothing else to play with '(
lio lower matters to s\nn-t a\ ith 1 Believe it, sirs, heaven
and glorj' are not got with sitting still with oui* hands in
our pockets. We think it worth the while to rise early,
and to sit up late, to get an earthly estate ; we count it no
foolish thing fir a man to be very diligent about his worldly
alVaii's. The ]ioor countryman ]iloughs and sows, harrows,
weeds, reaps, inns, thraslu's, and a great deal more, liefore
he can eat his bread ; and shall wc look for a rich croj), and
do notliing at all but eat, and drink, and sleep? Is this tlie
way to be rich ? Is this the \\ay to be hajipy for ever? If
you intend to do anytlnnn' in religion to any purjiose, you
must buckle to your business at another guess rate than
most of the jirofissors of the world <lo: you must take as
much jiains about your souls as men do about tiieir bodies
or estates. Is there any comparison between tlie soul and
the body, between a worldly estate and n heavenly inheri-
tance? Ilath a man more reason to loolc after tricking up
270 IIEAVEX UPON EARTH ; OR,
liis l)ody that must die, or look after tlie ailorning of liis
eoul that must live somewhere for ever? Which are mat-
ters of tlie greatest consequence, eating and drinking, pam-
]3ering the flesh, and taking our pleasure ; or looking after
life, salvation, and eternal joy? Do you tliink that the
scripture saith in vain, that "we must strive to enter in at
the strait gate f ' Is it a hare seeking that will sei've the
turn? Will a "Lord, have mercy upon me," and howing
the knee, do as well as the greatest seriousness and dili-
gence in the world? Do you think that God will he ])ut
off witli the skin and garhage instead of sacrifice, with tlie
shell instead of the kernel, with chaff instead of the com?
Doth not Christ say, that " Many shall seek to enter in,
and shall not be able ?" Oh, why do not lazy professors
read the scriptures -with trenihling? Let all those that are
angry with us for putting them upon making religion their
business, and using all diligence "to make their calling
and election sure," read that one scripture over again,
" Strive to enter in at the strait gate : for many, I say unto
you, will seek to enter in, and sluiU nut be aljlc," Luke xiii.
i24. It was Christ who spoke that word. If we tell you of
the danger of a formal religion, you will soon fall upon us
as enemies to your peace, and those who impose too much
strictness upon you. We therefore do here produce our
commission for what we say ; or rather, -vve desire you but to
read yourselves what Oln-ist spoke, as toucliing this matter.
Oh ! it n.iight jnstly make a Christian's heail ache, to think
how many tliousands of proi^essors will be disowned by Christ
in that day, who will make many fair pleas for themselves,
and pretend a great deal of acquaintance with him. Con-
sider, I beseech you, here is no fear of excess ; never any
man in the world that was too solicitous al^out his salva-
ti(m, never any man took too much pains for heaven.
Awake, 0 sleeper, what meanest thou? Arise, and call
Tipon thy God ! If you make anything of the loss of a soui,
look about you ; if you think the ^^ rath to come consider-
able, be serious ; if you would not be burnt by the fire of
his indignation, you must take hold of his strength and
make pence with him, and God will 1»e at jicace with you.
JESUS THE B/:ST FRIEND OP MAX. ::* ;
Isa. xxA'ii. 5. It is not without cause that the propnet doth
complain : " There is none that calleth upon thy name, tliat
stirreth up himself to take hold of tliee," I&a. Ixiv. 7. One
WDuld tliink that that w-.re strange. What, none call upon his
name, when so many of them made r,o many prayers, as you
have it in the first of Isaiah ! "What, did they notliing hut look
upon one another when they had their solemn assemhlies?
Did they say nothing to God when they came before himi
l)id they do nothing at all when they are said to seek him
daily, when they seemed to delight in his way ? Isa. Iviii.
Yet, in God's esteem, all this goes for nothing at all, this
])rayer is no l)rayer, this is only Avording of it with God.
But prayer is another kind of thing, it is the stm-ing up of
the soul, and awakening all its streng-th to wrestle with
God, to lay hold ujjou God, and to prevail with the Almighty.
And where are such as these to be found 1 who is this that
engages his heart in the service of God? It is one thing to
engage the tongue, and another thing to engage the heart.
Men come to pray \\itli a common spirit, and are many times
weaiy of the work before they have well begun it ; what they
do they do lifelessly. They can follow their worldly employ-
ments with life and delight. They have a male in their tlock,
hut that's too good for God ; a lame, blind, starved v/eak thing
must sen-e his turn. And is this the way to have the bless-
ing? Are such as these like to have any thanks for their
kindness ] Let them try how any of their friends would take
such a jjresent. Now, would you have the blessing of ac-
quaintance with God, you must wrestle for it, and not let
(iud go witliout it. You must be "fervent in sjjirit, serving
tlie Lord;" you must "fight tlic good fight of faith, and lay
hold on eternal life." You must gnvs]) ab(tut Ghriiit, as a
man that is drowning would giuisp anything that is tbrown
out to save him ; you must use " all diligence to make yoin*
<alling and election sure;" you "must work out your salva-
tion witii fear and tremlding;" you must "seek for wisdom
as for silver, and search for her as for hidden treasure. Then
shall you understand the fear of the Lord, and find the
knowledge of God." What excellent thing is there that is
{^ot without paiiisl Wh) ever came to he liUCMpiisile curious
278 itnAvr.x upon earth ; or,
artist in any skill whatever, that never seiTed an apprentice-
ship to it, nor at the least gave his mind to it? Where is
tliere a famous physician that never studied in his life?
'Who gets a Aactory by sleeping and carelessness ? Who ex-
pects to have riches drop into his mouth when he goes all
the Avays that can be to make himself a beggar ? Doth the
liusbandman look for a good crop without ploughing or sow-
ing ? Why then should we expect such great things as hea-
ven, eternal happiness, and the favour of God, without look-
ing after them ? AYhatsoever the lazy formal professor may
say, the kingdom of heaven is not obtained thus. There
must be running, watching, fighting, conquering, holding
fast, holding out, and all little enough ; it requires all the
strength of thy soul to engage in this great work; it requires
some resolution to do such a work as every Christian must
do, or else his religion signifies little. Further, it calls fur
some time too; it is not a thing to be minded now and
tlien, by the by, between sleep and awake, when the devil
and the world have had as much sen-ice as they call for.
Were it for your bodies that I am now pleading; were you
like to get any great matter in the world by following my
directions ; could you l)e shown a way how to get a great
estate, honom-s, and long life, I am verily persuaded a few
■words might prevail much. Why, if you will believe the
word of God, I am telling you of other kind of things than
these be, gi-eater matters by far ; and yet how little are men
and women affected! as if we spoke but in jest always,
when we spoke about things that did concern souls. How
little time do men spend in their inquiiy into these things !
Ask Epictetus, (Ench. c. G3,) and he will tell you that it is
a sign of a low soul to bestow much time ujjon the body
and the thoughts of it, and httle upon the soul ; to be long
eating, and long drinking, and long a-dressing, and short in
jjrayer, short in the thoughts of the soul, and short in the ser-
vice of God ; and that it is a sign of a base degenerate spirit to
be verj^ curious about toys and inconsiderable trifles, and to be
neghgent about matters of the gi-eatest importance, to slubber
over the gi-eat works of religion with the greatest slightness.
Eemember, 0 man, thy great work is to take care of thy
JESUS THE BEST rKIEXD OF MA\. 27!)
soul, to look after a Companion, a Friend for tliy soul, to get
food and clothing for thy soul, that it famish not with liun-
ger and cold. To be indifferent in all externals is the great-
est prudence ; but to be indift'ererit about spirituals and eter-
nals is the greatest madness. We are all soldiers, and must
fight in such a war wlierein we must never lay down our
arms. The favour of God is worth the striving for, it is as
much as heaven and glory are worth. If your estate or life
lay at stake, would you not be mlling to use all the interest
you could to make the Judge your Friend 1 Would you go
lip and down laugliing as if you had nothing to do 1 Would
you eat and diink as merrily as ever, and say, It is but dying,
it is but being a beggar, it is buttlie undoing of my wife and
children ? Would you not look upon a man tliat should
argue at this rate to be little better than frantic ? And, I
praj'', which is most considerable, the death of the body, or
tlie deatli of the soul ; the loss of a temporal, or the loss of
an eternal inheritance ? Most men's diligence in temporals
will condemn their negligence in spirituals. Christ said,
" Seek ye first the kingdom of heaven, and the righteous-
ness thereof;" but most men say, I will seek first the earth,
and the glory thereof; and if God will give me heaven and
happiness after I liave served the devil and the world as
long as I can, I shall be contented to have it. No such
matter; never expect it; God must sooner cease to be than
to gi-atify you in tliis. Wherefore, do you think, did David
follow his work so closely ? Why did all those noble worthies
in the cliurch of old take so much pains 1 Why should they
not much stick to venture estates and lives too ? WiU you
condemn them all as guilty of too much curiosity and un-
necessary jireciscness ? Do you think their labour was in
vain? Are all those disapjiointed who willingly parted with
present things for future things? I must tell you, if you
expect to sit down \\itli AbriiJiam, Isaac, and Jacol) in tlie
kingdom of heaven, yuu must do as they did. Heaven will
not be obtained now upon any lower terms than then.
Your souls are as precious as theirs, and heaven will be as
well worth your minding as theirs, and God will look upon
you as well us upon them, if you will value his favoui' aa
280 nsAVEN UPON earth; OR,
they did. Never look to liave God give you that which you
will not thank him for. What do you say after all this ?
Will you sit down before your work is done ? Open thine
eyes, and consider what thou hast to do, and then tell me
if it be not the greatest folly imaginable to be slight in these
aftau'S. Oh, how canst thou eat, or drink, or sleep, Avhilst
thou hast such a great work to do which is undone ? Oh,
give not sleep to thine eyes, or slumber to thine eyelids,
I at deliver thyself from the hand of the hunter, and as a bird
from the hand of a fowler ! " Go to the ant, thou sluggard :
consider her ways, and be wise ; which having no guide,
overseer, or ruler, provideth her meat in the summer,
and gathereth her meat in the harvest." How long wilt
thou sleep, 0 sluggard 1 When wilt thou arise out of tliy
sleep ? " Yet a little sleep, a little^slumber, a little folding
of the hands to sleep : so shall thy poverty come as one that
travailleth, and thy want as an armed man." And will
you now labour to get acquaintance with God, as you would
to get food for yoiu* liody ? Will you endeavour as much to
make sure of his love, as you would to make sure of a
jiardon, in case of the forfeiture of your life 1 If so, we
liave some hopes the work may have some considerable
issue.
DIRECTION IX.
If you would be acquainted with God, be much in ex-
postulating the case with God, in urging those arguments
which the Scripture doth afford you in such a case. Take
with you words, and come unto the Lord, and spread your
requests before him, and say, 0 Lord, thou hast sent thy
servants the ministers, and hast invited me to come unto
thee, and thou hast offered peace and reconciliation, and to
he acquainted with me. 0 God, I desire, from my soul, to
come upon thy call, and would fain be acquainted with thee.
I see myself in an undone state while I am a stranger to
thee. But, 0 Lord, I have a cursed base heart that keeps
me back from thee, and I cannot tell what in the world to
do. 0 Lord, I beseech thee, help thy poor creature to come
unto thee, lead me by the hand, let thy goodness and love
JESUS THE BEST FRIEND Of MAN. 281
constrain mc, conquer me by thy kindness; come, Lord,
into Hiy soul, and li't me see thy face, and look upon thee
till I am in love witli tlue. Oh why art thou as a stranger
to me ? Wilt thou forsake me fur ever ? Shall I be one of
those thuie enemies that shall be slain before thy £ice?
Shall I be one of those that shall dwell with everlasting
burnings? 0 Lord, pity, l>ity, pity, for Christ's sake, a
poor creatin'c that would fain love thee, and be acquainted
with thee. I am convinced that I nmst be damned witlVout
thee, and come to thee of myself I cannot. Oh draw me I
Oh carry me ! Oh compel me, constrain me, make me
willing in the day of thy power! I cannot get loose, my
heart is too hard fur me, my lusts are too strong for me, my
temptations arc too many for me to conquer of myself. O
Lord, help me. Turn mo, and I shall he turned. Pluck
my feet out of the snare, or I shall be utterly destroyed for
ever. Forgive min<- iniijuity, make me a clean heart, make
me thy servant. Tell God that thou hast heard of his
goodness and mercy, and that the King of Israel is a merci-
ful King, and that it is his nature to ])ity. Say to him, Oh,
I am a poor undone creature, and wilt thou send me away
without mercy i will the God of grace send me away with-
out gi-ace ] Hast thou not called me, 0 God 1 Thy ser-
vants tell me so. 0 Lord, speak, and give me ears to hear ;
0 Lord, I am come in upon thy merciful proclamation, and
1 desire to lay myself at thy feet ; mercy. Lord, mercy upon
\\hat tenns thou ])k'asest. Didst thou not .say in thy word,
" IIo, every one that thirsteth, come, and buy wine and milk
without money and without price?" Have not thy ser-
vants i)leiided with me to cijine? and hast thou not sent for
mc? Oh! a blessing, a blessing for me, even for me! O
my Fallicr, hast thou not a l)lessing fur me? Shall I be
Bent awny as I came ? 0 Lord, I come at thy word ! Do
not say unto mc, IJcgom^ out of my sight. I cannot go, I
will not go. ^Vhitllcr .shall I go from thee, for thou hast
the words of eternal life? Tliough I cannot say, Be just to
me a saint, yi-t 1 will say, Be merciful to me a sinner. I'Icad
the blood of Christ ; you may safely say, that if there be not
enough in Christ to save you, you do not desire salvatiun : for
282 HEAVEN Ul'ON EARTH; OR,
in him there Is all fulness. You may plead your own abso-
lute necessity. Tell God that if ever poor creature in the
world had need of mercy, you have ; tell him that you are re-
solved not to 1)6 content without his love. You may plead
his promise, in which he hath said that " he will take away
the heart of stone, and give a heart of flesh ; and that he will
put his fear in our hearts, and write his laws in our inward
parts." You may plead also the power of God, whereby he
is able to subdue all things unto himself; and many such
like arguments you may iind in many places in the Scri]i-
ture. But because I have touched upon this before, I shall
pass this by,
DIRECTION X.
If you would be acquainted with God, look after it speedily;
defer not a moment; your enemy is marching on apace; you
may be surprised ; yoiu* soul is hasting on upon its eternal
estate ; your glass is almost run ; there are but a few sands
behind : therefore seek the Lord while he may be found,
and call upon him while he is near ; erelong it will be too
late ; wherefore what thou dost, do quickly. What is the
voice both of Scripture and Providence? Doth not the
\vord of God say. Now, and commend the present time above
all. Acquaint jioz<; thyself with him. Remember '«o;(; thy
Creator. Turn notv unto the Lord. Let a poor heathen
shame you into greater speed in this necessary work. I
shall translate his words into English : " How long," saith
he, " will you defer the looking after the best things ?
How long will you abuse your reason 1 Have you not heard
such precepts which you ought to agree to, and wliich
you seemed very well to like 1 What kind of teacher is it
that you stay for 1 For whose coming do you defer, liefore
you will mend and turn? You ai-e come now to years of
discretion, (if I should say you were not, you would be
angry ;) if you wiU neglect and delay, and add one delay to
another, if you will add one put-oti" to another, and make
one resolution and purpose after another, and set one day
•after a,nother, in which you will think of these things, con-
sider that all tliis will do you no good ; for all your resolu-
JESUS THE LEST FRIEND 01' JIAN. 283
tions and promises, for all tliat I sec, you are like to die a com-
mon man ; therefore now live as a perfect g^-owing man, and
follow that which is most excellent unalterably. If any-
thing of difficulty intervene, remember that now is the
time for you to show what respect you have for your God
and your soul. Remember the goal is not far oftj and that
now you must not falter, and that as you demean yourself
now, it may l)e you may be happy or miserable while you
have a being." (Epict. En. c. 75.) This is the language of
that excellent moralist. I add, What is it, 0 sinner, that
thou stayest for? Is it for the day of judgment? Would
you be taught by flames the worth of time ? You may
tlien indeed learn ; but, believe it, your knowledge and learn-
ing will do you little good; j'ou may then learn what it is
to be miserable, but you cannot learn how to get out of it ;
you will know what you have lost, but you will never know
Low to repair your losses. IIow many thousands of them
who have set a day in which they would return and
repent, have set, and set, and set it again, and what with one
thing or other they could not be at leisure to repent till they
came to hell ; and there indeed they have leisure enough to
repent, and they do repent too, if hell-repentance would (b)
anything. I believe that all that come there do repent and
believe too, more than they did while they were alive ; but
then it's too late. They are now in those dreadful flames.
JNIanyof them thought, it may lie, of rei)entir.g before Ihey
died as well as you, and did just as you do. Oh that you
vouM understand yourselves l)efore your state be like theirs !
How inhnitely doth it concern you to imi)rove time, and to
comply with the present tenders of mercy that are made to
you ; for erelong it may be too late for you too. Oh ! know
tiiis therefore, that ncjw thy God makes you a gracitnis offer
of pardon ; and if you refuse now, tliis may be tlie last time,
this may be the very cast for eternity. God may say before
to-jnorrow, "This night thy soul sliall I)e ro(|uir('d of thee."
Goto, tliercfore, you that talk of trading for the great things
of eternity, I do not know when, thirty or forty years hence.
Do you not know that your life is but a blast? When your
breath goes out, of your nostrils, you are not sure that you
284 HEAVEN UPON earth; or,
shall draw it in again. What then do you mean to talk of
delay? Have you not stayed long enough already? Consi-
der, man, what thou dost. He that saith he will be good
to-morrow, saith he will he wicked to-day. And what if
God should say. Thou shalt have the pleasure of sin to-day,
and the sorrow of sin to-morrow ! Thou shalt be hardened
to-day, and damned to-morrow ! If your house were on tire,
you would scarce say, I will go and sleep four or five hours,
and then I vaW rise and call my neighbours to help to
quench it. If your child were drowning, you would scarce
say, I must needs stay till I liave drank a flagon or two
more, and about half an liour hence it may be, I may go and
see whether I can get a boat to help him out. If you were
condemned to die to-morrow, you would scarce say, I will
have music, and sack, and good company all night, and
then I will send a messenger, if I can get one to ride a
hundred miles, to try whether he can get a pardon for me.
Yet thus, for all the world, dost thou do in the great affairs
of thy immortal soul, " Oh the folly of man," saith Seneca,
" who thinks to Ijegin to live, when a thousand to one but
he will be dead and rotten!" I may say, oh the madness
of sinners, who make account to be looking after heaven
then when it's likely their souls may be in hell! Judge
now whether this be wisdom. Now you think time one of
the poorest commodities in the world ; it's a very drug which
lies upon your hand ; a day or two, a week, a year is no
great matter with you: but believe it, the case will be
altered with a witness erelong. Seneca wondered when
he heard some asking one of his friends to spend two or
three weeks with them, and saw how easily tlie request
was gi-anted, as if -they asked a,s little as nothing when they
asked time of him : " Thus," saith he, " one of the most pre-
cious things in the world is throwTi away as little Avorth."
"When you come to lie upon your death-bed, we shall have
you have other thoughts of time : then, a world if you had
it, for one of those hours that you could not tell how to
spend. You now study how to rob yourself of your precious
time ; you invent pastimes, not considering how swiftly time
flies, and how much you will prize it before long. Oh
Jr.SCS THE BKi5T FRTEXD OP MAN'. 285
rcmemLev, noliody can give you a moment of that time when
you want it, tliat j'ou are now so prodigal of. When time
is past, if you would give a world to recall it, it could not
be. If you would give thousands for the renewing of tliis
lease, it would be refused. Therefore, live quickly. jMan's
time runs away first. " Optima quoeqibce dies miseris mor-
ialibiis cevi 2^>'i'>ia fi((/it" (Seneca.) And then my author
comments very bravely upon the whole verse
I think that i)roverh, though it be an Italian one, is worth
our rejnembering, " He that will lodge well at night must
set out betimes in the morning." That whidi keeps us
from living to-day is the thoughts of living to-morrow, so
that we lose this day while we expect tlie next. Com-
iuenius, speaking of the tiger, saith, " That when he hears
the sound of the trumpet, he tears and l)ites himself."
This will be the work of the merciless tigers of the world,
that spend their time (in which they should be providing
for eternity) in hunting God's people and taking their
l)Ieasui'es, and, it may be, think to be a little more mild
before they die ; but of a sudden the trumpet sounds. Away,
away; and oh, then, what a lamentable taking are they in!
llow do they wish for time again, or that tlicy had spent
tliat which they had better ! Wicked men never know the
worth of time till they come to a death-bed, or a while"
after. Oh then, they tliat made nothing of spending thirty
or forty years wouUl lay down all tliey art' worth for one
year, one month, one day, one hour, but it's then too late.
Oh how do tliey gnash their teeth! Witli what horror do
tliey tiiink of past mercies and future miseries! ]\Ien fear
generally that Death will come sooner than they would have
him ; they bewail that their lives are sliort at the longest ;
whereas, if men would wisely husband that time wliicli God
hath given tliem, it would be long enough. Oh, Iiajjpy is
tliat man that liatii done his great work before his sun is
set! Oil f(jolisli men, that coin])]ain of God making their
lives so short, and comijluin not at all of themselves for
making them ten times sliorter ! For most men live not at
all the life of religion, and may be called dead. Others
have a name to live, and yet are little better than the for-
286 HEAVEN TTPON EARTH ; OR,
irier. Most tliat live spiritually I)egin tlieir life after llu'y
have been many years dead ; and though we sit and condemn
others as guilty of great imprudence in these ailairs, yet
how do we at the same time justify them, by being as pro-
fusely expensive of precious time as they! Oh, where 's
the man ahnost to be found that doth improve time to as
good advantage as lie should 1 Among other symptoms of
a fool, this is none of the least, '" to be always beginning to
live." What an unhandsome sight is it to see an old man
learning his letters ! Oh remember, man, thou hast a great
work to do ! Oh remember thy precious time runs away
with an unspeakal)le swiftness ! What do you mean, to sit
with your hands in your bosom ? Look about thee, 0 sin-
ner, 'tis not time-a-day for you to be sleeping or playing ;
rnethinks a man in your condition should be \ip and doing
with all the diligence that you could for your soul, and
labouring "to make your calling and election sure." Me-
thinks we should hear you asking ^^'hat you shall do to gei,
a pardon for your sins, to get God reconciled to you. Me-
thinks you should be inquiring wliat you should do to re-
deem your time, and to spend every moment of it so to the
best advantage, as that yon may appear cheerfully before
your Master at night. That I may enforce this weighty
direction, I shall propound a few serious questions to you.
!> Quest. 1. Do you think that these things are necessary, or
are they not ? If they are necessary, why do you not mind
them speedily ? If tliey are not necessary, do not look after
them at all.
Quest. 2. Do you expect to be in a better capacity to look
after these things hereafter 1 Do you hope for more strengtli
when you are worn out v.'ith sin and age, M'hen your back
begins to bend, and your joints to shake I Do you think
you shall be more at leisure when your work will be much
increased? Know this, that sin gi'ows upon you daily, it
jireys upon your vitals. Ho that is not lit to-day will be
less fit to-morrow. As for leisure, I must confess you may
have leisure enough in another world to think of these
things. I3ut I wish you well to consider Avhether it be
greater wisdom to repent in this world or in another. I
JESPs Tnr r,r;.?T putexp of m.vx. 287
would be loath to be repenting in another; it's sad weeping
indeed there wliere tears shall never be dried np. I have
told you oft that God saith, To-day, and it is both wickedly
and foolishly done of man to say, To-moiTow. I must tell
you but so, that it is a dreadful hazard that every delaying
sinner doth run. It is a question whether God may not
deny his grace, stop the preacher's mouth, stop his ears,
and stop your breath. And where are you then with your
To-morrow ? Delays in these affairs always cost dear ; they
have cost many thousands dear already, and if you make
no more liaste than you have done, they will cost you dear
too.
Quest. 3. When would you get acquainted with God? —
when he hath shut up his door? When would you run liis
race? — when you have lost your legs, or can but creep
with crutches? Is that the best time to do your work \\x
when it is next to impossible to do it ?
Qiiest. 4. Who deserves best at your hands, — the devil,
tlie world, and the flesh, or God 1 Kesolve me this, I pray.
Whom do you call your master? Whom have you most
reason to make haste for?
Quest. 5. How would you take it, if any of them who
depend ui)on you should serve you as you serve God ?
Quest. G. Do you think you can make too much haste?
Who is afraid of being rich too soon? Although a man
may with reason good enough be afraid of that which may
make his happiness far more uncertain, and his miseries
more intoleral)lo. Who fears to make tuomucli haste \vhen
his prince sends for him with speed ? Oh that men did
but know who it is that calls them, and whither they are
going, and what they have to do, when they come to their
journey's end !
Quest. 7. Arc you sure you shall live till you are an hour
older? You are strong and healthful, it may be, but did
you never iiear that such have died with a very little warn-
ing? Have you never known a man well one hour, and
dead the next? If you have not, I tell you of one now
that was very well one monieut and dead the next, myself
Icing an eyewitness yf it. It's possiblo there may be but
288 HEAVEN UPON EAETll; OR,
one small moment between a strong working healthful
man and a breatliless corpse.
Que.'tt. 8. What do you think will l)ecome of you, I ask
again, if you put off till it be too late 1
Quest. 9. What would you do if you were siire you should
die, or the day of judgment come before you were a week
older ]
Quest. 10. Do you think to get acquainted with God in
another world, when you do not mind him here'^ Will
God, think you, own them hereafter that disown him here ?
Will he know them in heaven who would not know him
upon the earth?
DIRECTION XI.
If you would be acquainted with God, take heed of those
tilings which keep God and man at a distance, and make
the Lord take no pleasure in us. In general, take heed of
all sin. " Wash you, make you clean ; put away the evil of
your doings from before mine eyes ; cease to do evil ; learn
to do well; seek judgment, relieve the oppressed, judge the
fatherless, plead for the wddow. Come now, and let us rea-
son together, saith the Lord," Is. i. 16-18. You must
wash your hands in innocence if you intend to compass his
altar, to sit down at his table. In Ps. ci. David is exceed-
ing desirous of God's company, and he cries out, "Oh when
vdlt thou come unto mel" lie thinks long to have a visit
from his old Friend ; he would gladly walk with him. Now
wdrat course doth he take to get God's company 1 Why, he
goes the best way to work in the world. He will set no
wicked thing before his eyes. He knows it is to no pui-pose
for him to expect much of God's company, while he doth en-
tertain his greatest enemies ; therefore he turns them out of
doors. " I hate," saith he, " the work of them that turn aside ;
it shall not cleave to me." And that God may dwell with
liim, and make his house, as well as his heart, a temple for
himself, he will not suffer a wicked person to live in it ; he
will have none in his family but such as shall be ready to
serve God and bid this liis great Friend welcome.
But more particularly, if you would have much of God'a
JESUS TUE BEST FIIIEXD OF MAX. 289
company, and be intimately acquainted ^vith him, take
lieed more especially of those particular sins which make
God most estrange himself from us. As,
1. Take heed of pride. That was the sin which made the
first breach between the creatm-e and the Creator, the sin
tliat sunk the angels ; that made God and them, who were
very good friends once, to l)e bitter enemies ; this hath made
the breach infinite, the feud everlasting, the wound incur-
al)le ; and this made the first quarrel between God and
man. When man thinks himself too good to be but a
man, he must be a god; he quickly is too bad to be a
man, he is but one remove from the devil. To be a
favourite of his Prince is not enough, except he may step
into the throne; it's therefore high time for his Prince
to renaove such from his presence to a prison, from the
court to a dungeon. It was pride that cast Adam out of
paradise ; and do you think that that sin is now less hateful to
God, and less dangerous to man than it was iive thousand
years ago ? Did it then spend all its poison I and can it
now do no harm ? Do you believe that God will take that
into his bosom now that formerly he abhorred to look uiion?
Now sin hath increased its strength and deformity, and
heightened its enniity against the infinite majesty of the
holy Jehovah, shall his hatred against it decrease? Will
he be more willing to accompany proud aspiring reljcls
now than then I No such matter: God is still as holy as
ever, and hates all sin, especially pride, as much as ever.
Do you think that it is for nothing that the word of God
speaks so much against this sin? Can it be that the Holy
■ Giiost would say, that " Eveiy one that is proud is an abo-
mination to the Lord," Prov. xvi. ■'>, except God did indeed
hate them { Why should God threaten such so much, if
he took any plea-surc in tlieir .society ? Though hand join
in hand, yet the proud shall not go unpunislied. Now we
call tlie j)roiid hai>i)y, but sliail we call tlicm so wlu'U flie
day of the Lord shall iturn as tire, and all tlie ]H-oud shall
be as stubble? And the day that cometh ohall lnim lluin
up, saitii tlie Lord, and it sliail leave them neitiier root
nor branch. When tlic'Lord shall tread down the wicked,
290 HBAVEiN UPON EAIITII ; OR,
and they shall l>c like ashea under his feet. Mai. iii. 15 ;
iv. 1, 3. There is not one proud man in heathen. 'I am
sm-e; nor a proud man upon the earth, that shall have
much of God's acquaintance. And let me say, he that sets
himself above God, (for that's the pride I mean,) whilst he
stands in that state, must never expect that God should
look upon him with any kindness. Heaven and hell will
as soon be agreed, as God and such a one shall be united.
The proud now overlook others that are then- bettei», and
scorn their JMaker ; but shortly they shall be paid in their
own coin, they shall be scorned too. If all the proud Nim-
rods, Pharaohs, and Bclshazzars in the world shoidd enter
into a league, and combine against the Almighty, and say
they will cast av.ay his cords from them, and that they will
never debase theu- noble spirit so low as to stoop to h.is
commands ; yet none of them all shall go unpunished : they
they shall be like stubble before the devouring flames,
and like chaff" before a mighty whirlwind: God is not
afraid of their big looks. Prov. xxi. 4; vi. 17; xv. 25;
Isa. ii. 12; Luke i. 51 ; James iv. 6. God will clothe him-
self with vengeance, and the mighty Jehovah will gird his
Aveapon upon his thigh, and march out in fury and in-
dignation, and draw his glittering sword, and resist tlie
proud, and teach them what it is to bid defiance to tlie
Lord of hosts. We shall soon sec who shall be ui)permoi5t,
God or they. And when the proud sinner lies conquered
at his feet, how doth he with infinite scorn look upon him,
and say. Behold, the man is become like one of us ! This
'tis for man to attempt the dethroning of the Almighty !
But it may be, most may think themselves little concerned
in that which I now speak ; wherefore I must add tliis one
word. Be it known unto thee, 0 man, whosoever thou art, that
thinkest thou hast no pride, I am sm-e thou art one of those
that are in the black roll, which have proclaimed war against
heaven ; thou art the man that shall never bt? acquainted
with God whilst thou art in that mind. It may be thou
mayst speak peace to thyself Ibr all this, and flatter thyself
as if God and thou were friends : but, let me tell thee, I conic
with heavy tidingu hi my month to thee : if thou lurn not
JESCS TEE BEST FRIEND OP MAN'. 291
he will whet liis sword ; lie hath bent his bow, and made it
ready, he hath preimied for thee the instruments of death ;
the day of thy calamity is near ; the dreadful Ji-hovah is
upon his mai-ch ; and if you ask me whether there ])e no
peace for thee, I answer as Jehu did to Jehoram, What
peace, 0 haughty sinner, so long as the pride of thy heart
is so great, and thy rebellions against thy IMakcr so many !
There is no peace, saith my God, to the wicked. Wherefore,
as you value your soul, as you tender your everlasting sal-
vation, and desire to be owned by the Lord in the day of
your distress, take heed of pride. Go quickly, and humble
yourself, and make sure your Friend ; labour to pull down
every high thought and every proud imagination, and
let your arrogant spirit bow before the mighty God ; there
is no way will do but this, as you have already heard. You
must set the cro^\Ti upon the Lord's head, you must lay
yourself at his feet, and lick the very dust. Your betters
have dune so l)efore you, and have thought it thuir honour
to lie at the feet of Christ ; this they looked upon (and with
good reason too) as the lirst step to preferment. If, there-
fore, you would be aecpiainted with God, take heed of
pride.
2. Take heed of a worldly mind. ^Yhat concord is there
between earth and heaven? What agreement between God
and the world i What delight can his holiness take in him
who had rather be wallowing in the mud and treading of
clay than bathing himself in divine contemplation ; that
thinks it higher preferment to sit by his bags of gold, than
to stand in the presence of his God ; a greater haj)piness to
bo rich than to I)e lioly; that had much better be in a fair,
market, or exchange, gettng money, than witii his God,
getting pardon, grace, and heaven? How pregnant is tlio
Scripture of proofs for the evidencing of this truth ! To
name one or two of a hun<lred : " To lie carnally minded is
enmity against God: for it is not siiliject to tlie law of God,
neither indeed can be," Ilom. viii. 7. Wliat do you say
to this Scripture} Those wiio walk with God live in ti>^
world, and yet tluy live aliove the world ; they all look
fov a city tluit iialli loiindaiioiib, whobe Jhiilder and Makeri
202 nSA YEN UrOX EARTH; OR,
is God. It was not for nothing that the apoiitle Jolm
laid so strict a charge upon those whom he wrote to,
"That they should not love the world, nor the tilings
of the world. If any man love the world, the love of the
Father is not in him," 1 John ii. 15. Whence is it that
so few great ones go to heaven, and that it is next to im-
possible for such to be saved ? Is it not because they have
chosen mammon for their friend, rather than God! He
hath their heart, their love, their tune, their service, and
they have little to spare for God, and therefore God hath but
a little happiness, a little heaven, a short glory for them ;
they shall have but a little of his sweet company, little ac-
quaintiince with him. Why doth James speak so terribly
to the rich men, and bid them go and weep and howl]
Was it not because their riches were like to imdo them ?
Did the wealthy man in the parable live ever the longer for
his riches, or fare ever the better for his greatness, when he
came into another world ? There is no c^uestion but he
might have more flatteries ; there is no doubt but he hath
more worldly friends ; but bring me a man upon tlie earth
that lets his heart without control fly upon the world,
cleaves to it, and takes it to be his best friend, that knows
God, that's acquainted with his i\Iaker, that prizeth his
Redeemer. It ^^■as a wise man who said that it's absolutely
impossible to mind externals and internals, this world and
another, with earnestness, at the same time : but it was
Wisdom itself who said, that " No servant caii sei-ve two
masters : for either he will hate the one, and love the other ;
or else he will hold to the one, and despise the other. Ye
cannot sei-ve God and mammon," JNIatt. vi. 24.
3. Take heed of hypocrisy. Who are the persons that
God doth denounce his dreadful threatenings against ? Are
they not such as honour him with their lips, when their
hearts are far from him I With what abhorrence doth he
look upon such, and all that they do ! Isa. i. They never
bring their heart to visit God with, and therefore they liave
little reason to expect that he should bring his dainties to
entertain them with.
4. If you would he acquainted witl) God, take heed of
JESirS THE BEST FRIEXD OF MAH. 293
being acijiiainted with Avickcd company. We read tliab
many wicked men have fared the better for the (;ompany o5
the godly ; Init we scarce ever heard that any godly man
ever fared the better for being in the company of the wicked,
except they went on God's en-and amongst them. Tliis is
clear in the case of Lot, who fii-st lost his goods, and was
made a cajjtive by being in Sodom ; and though they were
I'estored to him again for a while, (one would have thought
that should liave been a fair warning how he came again
uito such company,) yet because that would not do, a while
after you may read how dear Lot paid for dwelling in Sodom.
Poor man ! he lost all that he had, and was fiiin to tly away
without either flocks or herds, and little more than his
clothes on his back, and, that which was more sad, to Iciive
some of his own. dear relations behind him, roasting in those
dismal flames. Whereas had he never come to Sodom, or,
upon the sight of their wickedness, speedily left them, it had
been much itetter with him in many respects. Jehoshai)hat
fared never the better for joining in affinity with his wicked
neighbours, it had like to have cost him his life. But were it
only loss of temporals that a man hazarded by such society,
the danger were not so considerable ; but the peril is gi-eater
than this ; for by it they make God stand at a distance ; they
must never look to have such company and God's company
both together ; I mean, when they do unnecessarily or de-
lightfully converse with such. If, therefore, you intend to
be acquainted with God, you must not have them always
in your company whom he hates, and who hate him, and
will labour all they can to cool your ati'ections towards him.
"Wherefore, be ye not unecjually yoked with unljeru'vers:
for what fellowship hath righteousness with unrighteous-
ness? and what communion liath light with darkness?
and what concord jiath Christ with Belial ( or what part
hath he that Ijelicvith with an infKlcl ? and what agree-
ment hath tlie tcnii>le of Go<l with idols? for ye are the
temple of the living God; as God hath said, 1 will <h\ill iu
then), and walk in them; and I wiIll)i'tlu'irGo(i,aii(ltlu\ sluill
be my iie<iple. ^V hercl'ore come out from among them, and
be ye separate, saith tlic Lord, and touch not the unclean
29i heave:;? UPON earth; OE,
thing ; and I will receive you, and will be a Father unto
yon, and yc shall be my sons and danghters, saith the Lord
Almighty," 2 Cor. vi. 14-18. Bnt I wonld not here l)e
mistaken, as if I would commend an ungodly proud separa-
tion from all that are not j ust of our mind ; or as if a man
ought to have nothing at all to do with wicked men. No,
no, every one ought to do what he can in his place for the
good of souls. Oh that Christians would thus converse more
with their poor, ignorant, carnal, Christless neighbom-s !
Oh that they would thus be more acquainted with the
wicked, and then they should have never the less of God's
company, but the more. But it is unnecessary delightfully
associating ourselves with them that I mean, especially
such of them that will stifle every spiritual discom-se, and
divert you fi'om anything that tends to the promoting of the
interest of religion ; and such as have frequently expressed
their detestation of the way of holiness, and make but a
mock at yom- serious counsels, stop their ears to wholesome
advice, or make some indecent reflections upon the strict
profession of godliness ; such as labour to make you believe
that all religion but that which will consist with their
wickedness is l3ut a fancy. As for such as those, abhor their
company, fly from them as those that have the plague ; the
marks of death are upon them, and you may write "' Lord,
have mercy upon us " upon their doors, but go not in, lest
you be infected.
5. If you would be acquainted with God, take heed of
unbelief. Unljelief will make yoiu* soul depai-t from God,
and God quite to depart from your soul. This, this is one
of those dreadful and God-estranging sins which leads on
whole legions against the Almighty ; this is that bold dar-
ing sin which gives truth itself the lie, and saith that the
word of God is false, his promises aiiy, his threatcnings but
a wind. But know this, 0 sinner, such a wind they be,
that will rise to a dreadful storm, and tear your strong con-
fidence up by the roots, and blow it into hell, if you make
no more of it than you do.
G. If you would be acquainted with God, beware of sen-
suality. To be sensual and devilish arc near akin. To be
JKSUS TUfi BEST FKIEND OF MAX. 296
lovere of pleasure and haters of God are iisuallj'^ concomi-
tants ; in a ^vorc^, to fai-e deliciously every day and to 1)e
despised of God are no strange things. But I waive the
further prosecution of these things, because they are so
largely and excellently handled already by so many of our
brave woiihies. See J\Ir. Baxter's " Saints' Everlasting
Rest," and Mr. AUeiue's " Vindicise Pietatis."
DIRECTION XII.
If you ■would be acquainted with God, resolvedly and
freely give up yourself to him, and enter into a most solemn
covenant with him. And here I shall make bold with tliafc
reverend author whom Mr. AUchie makes mention of in his
'• Vindicise Pietatis," iind present }"ou again with that ex-
cellent foi-m, with tlie preparatories to it, which 1 have lately
met with in the forementiuned author. After your most
serious addresses to God, and after a deliberate consideration
of the terms of this covenant, and after a thorough search
of your own heart, whether you either have already or can
now freely make such a closure with God in Christ as you
have been exliorted to, and when you have composed
your spirits mto the most serious frame possible, suital.dc to
a transacti(jn of so higli a nature, lay liold upon the cove-
nant, and rely upon his promise of giving grace and strengtix
whereby you may be enabled to i)erform your promise.
Resolve, in the next place, to l)e faithful ; having engaged
your hearts, and opened your mouths, and subscril)cd Viith
your hands to tlic Lord, resolve in his strength never
to go Ijack. Ami being thus prepared, and some con-
venient time lieing sit ai)art for tlio ])iirpose, sot upon
the work, and in the most sol(>mn manner i)Ossil)le, as if'
the Lord were visibly present before your eyes, fall down
on youi- knees, and S[)reading forth your hands towjinls
heaven, open your hearts to tbe Lord in those or tlio like
words : —
" 0 most dreadful Go<l, for the passion of thy Son, I bo-
seocli tlii'f, iieoopt of tby poor proiiig;il, now )irostr;itiiig
himself at tby door. I liavi; fallon from thee by mini- ini-
quity, and uni by nature u bou of death, und a thousand-
296 HEAVEN UPON EARTH ; OK,
fold more the child of hell hj my wicked practice ; but of
thine infinite grace thou hast promised mercy to me in
Christ, if I Avill but turn to thee wi'Ji all my heart. There-
fore, upon the call of the Gospel, I am now come in, and,
tlu'owing down my weapons, submit myself to thy mercy.
And because thou requirest, as the condition of my peace
with thee, that I should put away mine idols, and be at
defiance with all thine enemies, with whom I acknowledge
I have wickedly sided against thee ; I here, from the bottom
of my heart, renounce them all, fi-eely covenanting with
thee, not to allow myself in any known sin, but conscien-
tiously to use all the means that I know thou hast pre-
scribed for the death and utter destruction of all my cor-
ruptions. And whereas I have formerly inordinately and
idolatrously let out my affections upon the world, I do here
resign my heart to thee that madest it ; humbly protesting
before thy glorious IMajesty, that it is the firm resolution of
my heart ; and that I do unfeignedly desire grace from thee,
that when tliou shalt call me hereunto, I may practise this
my resolution, through tliy assistance, to forsake all that is
dear unto me in this world, rather than to turn from thee
to the ways of sin ; and that I will watch against all its
temptations, whether of prosperity or adversity, lest they
should withdraw my heart from thee ; beseeching thee also
to help me against the temptations of Satan, to whose sug-
gestions I resolve, by thy grace, never to yield myself a ser-
vant. And because mine own righteousness is but mon-
strous rags, I renounce all confidence therein, and acknow-
ledge that I am of myself a hopeless, helpless, undone
creature, without righteousness or strength. And foras-
much as thou hast of thy bottomless mercy offered most
graciously to me, wretched sinner, to be again my God
through Christ, if I Avould accept of thee, I call heaven antl
earth to record this daj', that I do here solemnly avouch
thee for the Lord wy God, and with all possible veneration,
bowing the neck of my soul under the feet of thy most
sacred Majesty, I do here take thee, the Lord Jehovali,
Father, Son, and Holy Ghoat, for my portion and chief
good, and do give up myself^, body and soul, for thy servant.
JESUa THR BEST FHIEXD OP MAN. 297
promising ami vowint; to serve tlicc in holiness and right-
eousness nil the days of my life.
" And since thou hast appointed the Lord Jesus Cln-ist
the only means of coming unto thee, I do here, upon the
hended knees of my soul, accept of him as the only new
and living way hy which sinners may have access to thee;
and do here solemnly join myself in a marriage-covenant
to him.
" 0 blessed Jesus, I come to thee hungry and hardly be-
stead, i>oor, and wretched, and miserable, and blind, and
naked, a most loathsome, polluted wretch, a gnilty, con-
demned malefactor, unworthy for ever to wash the feet ot
the servants of my Lord, nnich more to l)e solemnly mar-
ried to the King of Glory; but since such is thine unpar-
alleled love, I do here, with all my power, accept thee for
my Head and Husliand, for better for worse, for richer for
poorer, for all times and conditions, to love, and honour,
and obey thee before all others, and this to the death. I
eml)race thee in all thy offices, I renounce mine own worthi-
ness, and do here avow thee to be the Lord my righteous-
ness ; I renounce mine own wisdom, and do here take thee
for mine only Guide ; I renounce mine own will, and take
tliy will for my law.
"And since thou hast told me tliat I must suffer if I will
reign, I do here covenant with thee, to take my lot as it
falls witli thee, and, by thy grace assisting, to run uU hazards
with thee, verily sup]iosing that neither life nor death shall
part l)et\veen thee and nie.
"An<l because thou hast been pleased to give me tliy
lioly law as the rule of my life, and the way in which I
should walk to thy kingdom, I do liere willingly ]iut my
neck under thy yoke, ;ind set my shoulders to thy i)urden,
and subscribing to all thy laws, as holy, just, and true, I
solemnly take them as tlie ride of my words, thougiits,
and actions ; jiromising that, tlioiii,di my liesh contra-
dict and relx'l, yet I will endeavour to order and govi in
my whole life according to thy direction, and will not
allow myself in neglect of anything that I know to be my
duty.
298 HEAVEN UPON EARTH; OU,
"Only becausp, through tlie frailty of my flesh, I am kud-
ject to many failings, I am bold humbly to protest, that
unhallowed miscarriages, contrary to the settled bent and re-
solution of my heart, shall not make void this covenant;
for so thou hast said.
"JSTow, Almighty God, Searcher of hearts, thou knowest
that I make this covenant with thee this day without any
known guile or reservation, beseeching thee, that if thou
espiest any flaw or falsehood herein, thou wouldst discover
it to me, and help me to do it aright.
"And now, glory Ije to thee, 0 the Father, whom I
shall be bold, li-oni this day forward, to look upon as my
God and Father, that ever thou shouldst find out such a
way for the recovery of undone sinners. Glory be to thee,
0 God the Son, who hast loved me, and washed me from
my sins in thine own blood, and art now become my Saviour
and Redeemer. Glory be to thee, 0 God the Holy Ghost,
who, by the finger of thine almighty power, hast turned about
my heart from sin to God.
" 0 dreadful Jehovah, the Lord God omnipotent, Father,
Son, and Holj^ Ghost, thou art now become my covenant-
Friend, and I, through thine infinite grace, ani become thy
covenant-servant. Amen. So be it. And the covenant
which I have made on earth, let it be ratified in heaven." •
THE CONCLUSION.
And now my work is done, I must leave you; and who t Iter
1 shall ever speak to you, or see you, or write to you again
Avhile the world stands, I know not. jMy body is frail, and
I am a poor dying man, and before it be long, my moutli will
be more stopped than it is, and yours too. And therefore
it's high time for us to look about us. As for my part, I
have, with all the seriousness that I could for my soul, spokeu
to you about the great and weighty afi'airs of your souls and
eternity. I again call heaven and earth to witness that I
liave set life and death before you ; I have, in the name of
my great Master, been wooing you to accept of his Son for
your Lord and Husband j himself for your Godj Father, and
JESr? THE BEST FRIEND OP MAN. 299
Fviond. I have told yo\i wliat tlie Lord dotli reqiiiro of
thorn that would be in covenant with him. I have given you
a rude description of Him whom I would have you aorjuainted
with. I have tuld you of some of the glorious effects of
acquaintance \vith God. I have told you of the danger of
being a stranger to God. I have told you how tliankfully
Bome have closed with these otters, and how well they like
their choice. I have further shown you what a peaceable
state you shall be in, immediately upon your spiritual al-
liance with this great and noble Friend. I have told you
also of some further Ijcnefit and good that will come luito
you upon your acquaintance with God. I have given you
to understand how desirous the Lord is, notwithstanding
all that is past, to forget and forgive, and to receive you
into favour, if you will in good earnest return to him with
speed. I have again and again propounded this match to
you, and told you as much as I could well do in so short a
time. I have stayed a great while for an answer. I have put
the business forward all that possibly I could ; because I
see how foolishly and madly ymu inake light of tho.se ad-
vantageous offers that are made to you. I have ag;iin an d
again pleaded with you, as if I were ready to starve, and
begging an alms of you ; nay, if it had been for my very
life, I could not have spoken with more earnestness. I
liavc expostulated the case with you, and asked you several
weighty que.stions, and you have not, you cannot, answer
any one of them, but you must condemn yourself, and by
your own confession, you liave nothing in the world to say
against the excellency of this Friend. And tlierefore you
nuist either ejieedily come in upon the invitation, and close
with those gracious overtures that are made to you, or you
must, without any reason in tlieworid,(yourself being judge,)
cast yourself away. And in hopes that all that have lieard
me will not be so mad as to make light of these things, but
be a.sking, with some seriousness, that great question, lluw
shall I do to get ac<iuainted with God / jiow shall I do to
get a Friend for my soul i wliat shall I do to be saved ?
I have laid down some directions for those that are un-
feij^nedly detivous to bo recouciled to God. I huvo told
300 HEAVEN UPON EARTH ; OR,
til Pin that they must labour to be thoroughly acquainted
Avith that strangeness and enmity that is in their hearts
against God, and of the unspeakable danger of their being
strangers to God. I have further directed them that would
be acquainted with God to labour to get humble hearts. I
have advised that they visit him often, if they would be in-
timately acquainted with him ; and that not in a transitory
way, but to make a solemn, set visit of it, and to be sure
that they do not forget to get Christ along with them. I
counselled them also to be much in those places where he
is wont to walk, and to get intimately acquainted with
some of them that know him very well, and will do their
best to get them to be acquainted with him. I have told
you that if you would be acquainted with God, you must
kindly entertain and make much of any messengers that
come from him to you ; and if men would make sure work,
I desired them, as tliey loved their souls, that they would '
follow this great business with the greatest earnestness and
seriousness in the world ; and that what they do they
would do speedily. I informed you what arguments the
Scripture puts into our mouths, which v.-e may urge, at the
throne of grace. I entreated you, for your soul's sake, to
take heed of those things which kept God and man un-
acquainted ; as, namely, all sin in general, but more par-
ticularly pride, worldly-mindedness, hypocrisy, delight in
wicked company, unbelief, and sensuality. Lastly, I direct
all such as would be at peace with God to give up them-
selves to him resolvedly and fi'eely in a solemn covenant.
And have I been beating the air all tliis while ? What
will ye do after all this? What shall become of all these
sermons 'l Dare any of you all still be contented to be im-
acquainted with God 1 Can you be very well satisfied, after
you have heard of such a Friend, to be a stranger to him ?
Can any of you look upon your state as safe while God is
your Enemy 1 Oh, how shall I leave you with hearts full
of enmity against your jMaker ! Alas, alas, poor hearts !
You look very merrily, as bad a condition as you are in ; but
did you but know how near you are to everlasting burn-
ings, I believe it would put a damp upon your spirits, and
JESUS TUE BEST FKIEND OF MAX. 301
spoil yonr mirth. Oh, how sluili I leave that poor sinner
tliat stands as a person altogether unconcerned, wherca3
Death stands ready for his connnission, to fetch him away
before God ! And where are you then ] Oh where are you
then, if you come l)ofore God as a stranger? Oh what
shall I do for you? What shall I say to you, to prevail
with you? Oh, Avhat arguments will persuade you? Oh,
how shall wc part ? Brethren, my heart's desire is that
you may all be saved. Oli tliat you may all know, in this
yoiu- day, the things of your peace ! Oh that I could
mingle all my words with tears 1 Oh pity, pity, for the
Lord's sake, ])ity your precious souls ! Oh, come not here
to ask counsel of God, and then go away, and t^ike tlie
t'oimsel of the devil. And what, will you yet make light
of all the tenders of the Gospel? Arc peace, jiardon, recon-
ciliation, and acquaintance with God still nothing with you ?
Will you, for all this, take up with a lifeless religion, and
never mind a more spiritual, intimate converse with God ?
As the Lord liveth, thou speakest that word ag.ainst the
life of thy soul. But if thou wilt go on, and despise God,
who can liel[i it I I have told thee, and told thee again,
wliat the end of those things will be. Well, once more, I
ask thee, in the name of God, Wilt thou have God for tliy
Friend or n<j I that is. Wilt thou love him above all the
world I Wilt thou accept him for thy Lord and Husband J
Wilt thou be ruled absolutely by liim I Wilt tliou lay down
thy weapons, and turn on God's side, and light under his
banner? Wilt thou have holiness here, and hai)piness
licreafter? One would think tliis is a question that one
need not be long resolving. Come, come away, for the Lord's
pake, for your ])rccious soul's sake; as you would be owned
at the day of judgment, :ls you would rejoice when most
of the world shall be filled Avith unspeakable lioiTor and
])crj)lcxity, as you would not lu'ar that heart-rending
word from the mouth of the .Judge, " I)ei)art, I know you
not," come away, I beseech you I Come away! Uh ye,
my dear friends, the cloud hangs over the worM, and ere-
long it will fall with a vengeance. Oh, come out of,
Sodom, linger not, for the Lord's iiake, let-t the dint of tljat'
U
302 HEAVEN UPON EAUTII ; OR,
storm fall upon you. Fire ! fire ! fire ! A^^'ake ! awake !
awake ! The fire is kindled. What meanest tlion, 0 sinner?
If thou sleepest a little longer in that hed of security, thou
art a dead man, thou wilt be awakened of horror, when thou
shalt know thy danger, but not know how to avoid it. And
do you still stay? Make haste! Oh make haste! Your
glass is almost out, your time almost spout, and death is
hastening apace upon you. I speak it again, make haste !
come away ! I cannot, I cannot hold my peace ! How can I
endure to see the ruin of thy soul, and say nothing! Oh
follow those du-ections which I have given thee out of the
Scriptiu'e ! Seek the Lord Avhile he may be found, and with
all possible speed, seriousness, and gratitude, accept of his
kindness, while you may. Methinks some of your hearts
seem to be affected ; methinks your countenances speak you
to have some thoughts of returning ; some of you look like
persons almost resolved to set upon this great work: oh that
it may not be almost, but altogether! Speak in such
language as this to your own souls. What meanest thou,
0 my soul, thus to stand disputing 1 Is this a time for thee
to stand still, as if thou hadst nothing to do ? Hark how
the King of Glory calls ! Hark how his messengers invite
thee ! Consider hew long they have stood \vaiting for thee!
And shall they go away without thee ? 0 foolish licart and
unwise, wilt thou answer all these gracious otters ^\•itl^ a
flat denial ? or that which is little better, Avilt thou jiut off
all God's messengers with some sorry excuses ? Awalre, 0
my soiil, and look about thee ! How canst thou refuse when
mercy calls ? How canst thou deny when kindness itself
asks, entreats, beseeches thee 1 Awake ! for shame ! up and
put on thy wedding-garments! Oh tliat this mind might
lie in thee always ! Oh that thou wert up and ready ! And
then hajipy were the day wherein thou wert born; then
happy were the day that ever thou heardst of a Christ, of ac-
• luaintance with God, and reconciliation with thy Maker.
Oh then, how glorious shouldst tliou be for ever ! I rejoice
to see the day of thy marriage coming ; when tliy Lord and
Husband shall bring thee home in the greatest state, and in
infinite glory, to his own house, Mhere thou shalt sit like »
JESUS THE BEST FIUEXD OF MAN. 303
queen for ever and over. Beliokl his harbingers are coming!
Bchuld how many messengers the Lord liath sent to prepare
his way ! Awake, 0 Zion, and put on thy l^eautifiil gar-
ments ! Rise nji, 0 royal bride, and put on thy princely
robes ! Clothe thee witli the sim, and put the moon under
thy feet. Go out and meet the King, thy Husl)and. Behold,
(.) .Jacob, the waggons of Joseph are CDUiing ! Behold, O
daugliter of Zion, the chariots, the chariots of thy King and
Husband arc coming! They are coming ! Oh why doth not
thy liuart leap within thee .' Oh why do not thy spirits even
faint for gladness ? ^Vhy dost thou not say, It is enough, I
will go out and meet my Lord before I die ? When will
tlu! sun Ito up ? Wlien will the day break ! When, oh
wlien will the shadows tJy away I I will get me up to the
mountains of myrrli, to the hills of frankincense. I am
travelling for Zion, my face is towards Jerusalem. Who will
ascend the holy hill with me ? Who will bear me company to
my Husband's house I Let us go up to the Lord's house.
Come away, the sun is risen, the shadows arc flying away*,
thousands are gone already. Let Barzillai and Chimham,
f)ld and young too, go along with the King to Jerusalem.
Come from the liighways and hedges, come witli your wed-
ding-garments; come (iuickly,and hewill make you welcome.
Tlie King hath sent to invite us to a feast, a feast of fat things,
of wines on the lees, well refined. Come, for the table is
sprcarl, all things are ready, and his servants stay for ns.
And will Ood entertain such creatures as we are ? And will
the Lord open his doors to such loathsome beggars ? Will the
Father receive such prodigals? Ketm-n then unto thy rest,
O my soul, for the Lord will deal bountifully with thee.
Who is he that I sec coming in the field i Who is this
tiiat comes from the wilderness 1 that comes to meet us ?
Hark! methiiiks I hear the trumpet sounding! Hark!
What's the matter? How do the mountains echo! How
doth the air ring again! What noi.se is that which I liiar?
What glorious train is that which I see? Whence do they
come, and whither do they go? It is my Master's Son, dear
soul, thy Lord ami Husband, with his royal attendants. Be-
Jiold ho comes ! He conies apace ! leaping upou *iio Liib,
304 HEAVEN UPON EAllTII.
skipping upon ilic mouutains. He is coining ! He is coming!
lie is even at the door ! Erelong thou shalt sec the moun-
tains covered with chariots and horses of fire ; the earth will
tremhle and sha,ke ; the heavens and the earth will be all ou
a flaming fire ; the King of Glory will come, riding upon
the Avings of the wind, accompanied v,'ith millions of his
saints and angels. He is coming, he is at the door ! Go,
veil thy face ; alight and meet thy Husband. He will bring
thee into his Father's palace, and thou shalt be his wife, and
he will love thee for ever ; and thou shalt remember thy
widowhood no more. Even so, come, Lord Jesus; come
quickly. Amen. Amen. ,
LIFE
REV. WILLIAM JENKYN,
OSE OP THE EJECTED M1NI3TEB3 IN lOCi
William Jenkyn, one of the ejected ministers on the
celebrated English St. Bartholomew's Bay, pi-esents, in the
incidents of his eventful life, a sultjeet fur biography strik-
ingly illustrative (jf that remarkable period in the history
of the Church of Christ in England. His grandfather,
Williiun Jenkyn of Folkestone, Esquire, was a gentleman
])ossessed of considerable landed property in Kent, and
.strongly attached to tlie established system of polity, and to
Avhat is styled the high cluirch party, of the Church of
England. lie was jjossessed of considerable influence, from
]iis wealth and cunnections, and having early designed Ills
Bon, the father of the subject of our memoir, for some valu-
at)le church preferment, he sent him to the University of
Cambridge, to comidetc his studies, and prepare for taking
orders in the church.
The young student i)roceeded to the University, prepared
to fidlow out his father's scheme, and to <(ualify himself for
a-ssuming the s:icred ofiice of the ministry, witii all its
solemn responsibilities, from no liigher motive tlian that of
securing a comfortable maintenance for life. Wlien there,
liowever, circumstances tnins])ired which produced a re-
markable change on liis views, and exercised a ])i'rmanent
inlhience on liis future course of life. ] t was his fortune to
be led by rrovidunce to attend on the mini.stry of Mr. Per-
kin.Sj a devout iireachcr in Cambridge, who adhered to tlie
306 LIFE OF THE REV. WILLIAM JENKYN.
Puritan Nonconformists. Tlie consequence of this step
was speedily manifested by a remarkable cliange in his \ie\V3
on tlie nature and value of religion. He learned to see the
deep importance of the office of the ministry, which he had
been so tlioughtlessly seeking to assume, and to take a solemn
Aaew of the nature of the Christian profession, which he had
lieretofoi'e regarded as little more than a necessary form of
qualification for the political and professional status he was
desirous to acquire.
He pursued his studies with new energy and zeal, under
this striking change of views, while his intercourse was al-
most entirely confined to the despised Nonconformists,
among whom he had first learned the true nature of the
Christian profession.
On his return to Folkestone, at the close of the University
term, his father was higlily offended on discovering the
change of views in his son, and after in vain seeking, by
means of every availal)le argument and threat, to wean him
from his attachment to the Puritans, and from the religious
views he had adopted, he at length disinherited him, alien-
ating from liim nearly all the estate and fortune which lie
was entitled to succeed to. Young Jenkyn, however, had not
taken so decided a step without seriously counting the cost ;
and, "looking for another and a better inheritance," he bade
farewell to the paternal roof. Retiring to Wethersfield, lie
there put himself under the guidance and direction of Mr.
Richard Rogers, an aged Puritan divine, and a near de-
scendant of John Rogers, the pi-oto-martyr in the Marian
persecution. It is not our intention, however, to follow out
minutely the incidents of this good man's life. He dili-
gently prosecuted his studies at Wethersfield, and, being in
due time ordained to the office of the ministiy, he was soon
after appointed as minister of Sudbury, in Suffolk, where,
says liis biographer. Dr. Calamy, "he was signally useful to
many, by preaching and catechising, and he adorned all by
a holy conversation." Soon after his settlement at Sudl)ury,
he married the grand-daughter of John Rogers, the emi-
nent martyr already referred to, who so iKibly witnessed a
good confession, in the first years of " bloody j^Iaiy's" in-
LIFE or THE REV. \VILI.IAX JE.NKYN'. 307
tolerant reign. Tlie fruit of this union was William Jenkyn,
the subject of the present biographical sketch, who was born
at Sudbury in tlie year 1G12.
' We cannot Ijut view with interest the offspring of such
parents ; AVilliam Jenkyn was truly the seed of the righteous,
and his after-life alnindantly proved that the many pro-
mises of Scripture were fulfilled in him. IJis father died
while he was still an infant, leaving him to the sole care of
a pious mother. But on his grandftither learning of the
death of the son whom he had disinherited, he was filled
with poignant grief and remorse, and, sending fur his little
grandson to Folkestone, he promised to undertake the charge
of his education and future prospects in life, dou1)tlcss with
the view of reinstating him in the inheritance from which
liis father had been excluded. The child soon gained on
liis grandfather's affections, already softened by his regi-et-
ful remembrances of his lost son, whom he had banished
from the jiaternal roof. He continued to reside with him
till the ninth year of his age, receiving, during that time,
many tokens of the love with which he was regarded ; but
at the end of that time, his mother, ivho had married a
second time, became apprehensive of the influence of worldly
society and example on his young jnind, and fearing the
want of a religions education, she recalled him home, to
the great displeasure of his grandfather.
In liis new sphere, young Jenkyn's attention was speedily
directed to the acquirement of such knowhilge as was suited
to his age. He .soon exhibited proofs of very superior
mental capacity. lie made such ra])id advances in liis
studies at school, that he was sent, at the age of fourteen,
to complete his educati<m at the University of Cainliridge.
" lie pursued his stinlies," says l)v. Calaiuy, in his ''Kou-
confonnist Memorial," " with great success, and his progress
in l)iety was as eminent as in learning. His com])any Avas
earnestly courtcil by .'^onie young wits of the University,
for liis s])riglitly genius; but perceiving their looseness, lie
waived an intimacy with them." He continued diligently
to cultivate the advantages then enjoyed at that eminent
seat of learning, until lie received from the rnivcrsitv the
3€)8 LIFE OP fur. nvs. vcuaaxm jrxsYK.
]ionoiiral)le degree of Master of Arts, and was ordained a
minister of the Clinrch of England.
Mr. Jenkyn did not immediately enter on the ivovk of
the ministry after the completion of his studies at Cam-
bridge. His prcacdiing, however, appears to have very early
proved acceptable to his auditors, and soon after his lirst
appearance in public, he was chosen lecturer of St. Nicholas
Aeons, London ; and from thence was called to Hithe, near
Colchester, in Essex, where lie first married. He did not
long remain at Hithe. The low and marshy ground which
abounds iu the neighbourhood of that place, and the general
character of the district, where agues, and other diseases of
a similar nature, were rendered prevalent by the dampness
of the soil, so greatly afi'ected his health, as to interfere
"vvith his usefulness, and at the earnest solicitation of his
friends in London, he returned to town. Soon after his
arrival there, he was chosen minister of Christ's Church in
the city, and some months afterwards he also received the
appointment of lecturer of St. Ann's, Blackfriars. It was
the misfortune, however, of this good man to suffer in all
the great changes of that eventful period, and, while quietly
pursuing his duties as a faithful minister of the Gospel, to
be involved in the political changes which then agitated and
distracted the commonwealth. He continued for a time to
fulfil tlie double duties which had devolved on him, with
great diligence and acceptance, till the Parliamentary leaders
had successfully achieved their triumph over the rash a)id
headstrong kmg, Charlec I. One of the first steps adopted
by the Parliament thereafter, was to order a public thanks-
giving to be observed throughout the kingdom, and as Mr.
Jenkyn could not reconcile this to his conscience, he was
soon after suspended from his ministry, and had his bene-
fice of Christ's Church sequestered. To this he submitted
without a murmur, withdrawing to a quiet retirement at
33illericay, in Essex.
After a time, when he believed the excitement to have
subsided, lie ventured on returning to London. But the
sacrifice he had already made from conscientious motives,
had rendered liiui an object of buspicion to the luea iu
LIFE OP THE RF.V. T,-I1.T.IAM JEN'KYX. 309
power. lie was PcizeJ a few months after his return, on
suspicion of heing coneerned in one of the numerous con-
spiracies Avliich tlien throatoned tlie government, and wliich
is known as Love's plot. In consequence of this he -was
sent a prisoner to the To\ver. There he drew up a petition
and remonstrance to Parhament, setting forth the wrongs
and injustice he had suifered, and so strong was the etiect
produced by his eloquent appeal, that he was not only re-
leased from prison, but an immediate discharge of the se-
questration by Avhich he had been ejected from Christ's
Church was ordered by Parliament. It seems somewhat
strange that, after such an efiectual interference on his be-
half, any ditiiculty should have been felt as to his imme-
diate restoration to his benolice. But such was his mode-
ration, that finding the government had followed up his
sequestration by appointing one Mr. Feak in his place, he
forbore to adopt any means for ejecting the new minister
from Chrisfs Church. The parishioners, however, were not
so easily satisfied ; they were warmly attached to him, and
earnestly desirous for his return to laliour among them, and,
accordingly; when they found lum disinclined to attempt any
means for his own restoration to the charge, they establishetl
a morning lectureship for him, and voluntarily raised a
liberal subscription to secure his maintenance. Doubtless
the good man found in tlicse voluntary manifestations of love
to him, and satisfaction in his ministrations, an abundant
reward f(jr all that he had suiiered for conscience-sake.
Meanwhile he resumed his Icctureshij) at Blackfriars, which,
being in tlie appointment of the people, had been retained
for him after his ejectment, and, on the death of Dr. Gouge
soon after, who was the incumbent of the church, IMr. Jen-
kyn was appointed to succeed him.
Towards tlie close of the Protectorate, a religions sect
made its appearance in England under the name of Fifth
Monarchy Men, and contrived by the cxtravngance of their
tenets, a'ld the unrcstiained violence of tlR-ir luocecilings,
both to create much disorder, and to furnish a liandle against
the Puritan ]>arty and all wlio had shown themselves favour-
able to religion, however o]iposcd they had been to the ex-
310 LIFE OF TnE KEV. TVILLIAM JENKTN.
travagances of such enthusiasts. The distinguishing tenet
of these men was a belief in the coming of a tifth universal
monarchy, of which Jesus Clirist was to be the Head, while
the saints, under his personal sovereignty, should possess
the earth. Their tenets were incompatible with any fonn
of government, while they did not hesitate to rise in arms
to assert their claims. Many of them suffered imprison-
ment and death after the restoration, on accusation of
treason, and plots to murder the Duke of York and the
King ; most of which, however, rested on very insufficient
evidence. One of the earliest among the London ministers
who joined these enthusiasts, was Mr. Feak, the successor
of jMr. Jenkyn, after his ejection from Christ's Church; the
consequence of which was, that he in his turn became ob-
noxious to the government, and was removed from his
charge. The appointment at that time rested with the
goverjiors of St. Bartholomew's Hospital, who accordingly
presented Mr. Jenkyn anew to his former charge. Here he
exercised the office of the ministry to crowded congrega-
tions, and with eminent success, for some years, until the
restoration of Charles II. and the publication of the Act of
Uniformity, when he who had been among the first to
suffer for his refusal to renounce the allegiance he had con-
ceived due to Charles I., was equally subjected to pains and
penalties as a Nonconformist, ou the restoration of his son.
With the same upright fidelity which he had exhibited
on every previous trial, he at once resigned his living rather
than sin against his conscience. " He was not satisfied,
however," says one of his biographers, " to desist from the
ministry upon the Act of Uniformity, though he could not
comply with the terms of it, but still preached in private
as he had the opportunity. Upon the Oxford Act being
passed, not being able to take the oath, he retired to his
own house at Longley, in Hertfordshire, and preached there
every Ijord's day, where, through the good providence of God
he met with little disturbance."
On the issue of the Act of Indulgence in 1671, one of tlie
few acts of toleration that marked the disgraceful reign of
Charles II., IMr. Jeiilcyn returned to London, and again
LIFE OF THE REV. -niLEIAM JEXKTX. 311
resumed his labours as a minister of the Gosptl. Ilis re-
ception by his former parishioners was cliaracterized l:)y the
same liearty and affectionate welcome, as when he returned
to them from the dungeons of the Tower. A meeting-house
was speedily erected fur him in Jewin Street, by their
imited exertions, and a numerous and attached congregation
soon gathered around him. As a still further proof of the
acceptable nature of his labours, he was soon after chosen as
lecturer at Pinner's Hall, in addition to his ordinary duties
at the new meeting-huuso
Tliis pleasing state of things, however, was not of long
duration. The spirit of persecution was powerful in the
licentious coiirt of Charles; and none were nior? obnoxious
to the agents of intolerance than those whose exemplary
virtues and unobtrusive piety formed a constant, though
silent rebuke on the lawless vices of those Avho tended ou
the sovereign. The Indulgence was speedily revoked.
Charles had in vain striven to accomplish his own ends
under the name of constitutional forms, but, even as l;is
father had done, he discovered, when too late, that every
successive Parliament was less pliable than the one tliat
liad preceded it, and he dissolved the last of them, which
had been summoned to meet at Oxford on the 28th of ]\larch
1G81, after it had sat only a week. From that time Charles
governed without Parliaments, and after the most arbitrary
manner ; nor were tlie Nonconformists long without feeling
the full weight of his desj)o(ic rule.
After the revocation of the Indulgence, there h:id been so
far a connivance, that I\Ir. .lenkyu continued to preach
every Habi)ath in his meeting-honse without being disturbed,
but, in K'tH-J., a terrible persecution broke (nit. From that
time lie wascomi'elled to abandon his congregation, and the
stated services of the Lord's day, contenting himself with
preaching from place to jdiice where he could do it most
secretly and (jut of the reach id" the informers, a vile set of
miscreants, who subsisted on the reward of their treachery in
betraying the jn-eachcrs to whose meetings they could olitaia
access. Mr. Jenkyn continued this precarious and most
harassing system of labour among tlic Nonconfurmists of
312 LIFE OF THR RF.V TVILLTAM JENKTN.
England for a period of two years, dnring the whole of
v.liich time he esoape<l every search, and successfully avoid-
ed exciting the notice of those who were actively engaged
in " haling men and w-omcn to in-ison," for no other
crime than that of preaching and hearing the truth. But
at length, on September 2, 16S4, the faithful public labours
of this devoted sei'vant of Christ, which had been so long
shackled and hindered in their operations by the persecution
of the intolerant government that had then succeeded to
pov>cr, wei'e summarily brought to a close. T.Ir. Jenkyu
had withdrawn to spend the day in prayer^ along with a
number of Christian friends, who mourned over the decay
of piety in the land, and earnestly longed for the enjoyment
of that social and public worship which was now denied
them. Among those who had assembled on this occasion,
were Mr. Reynolds, Ni: Jol n Flavel, and Mr. Keeling, all
eminent Nonconformist ministers. The place which they
liad chosen to assemble in, was a secluded upper room,
■\shere they considered themselves safe from observation
and danger. Some sj^y, however, had got notice of their
meeting, and they had not long assembled, when their de-
votions were interrupted by an alarm of pursuit ; the soldiers
burst in upon the attiighted assembly, and nothing was
thought of but instant flight.
All the ministers who were present at this meeting ef-
fected their escape, excepting Mr. Jenkyn ; and we owe the
narrative of his capture to the diary of ]\Ir. Flavel, who was
near enough, at the time he was seized, to hear the inso-
lence of the officers and soldiers to him after his ajjprehen-
sion. From liis account, it appears that the native courtesy
and gentleness of Mr. Jenkyn had tiiumphed over even the
natural desire for liis O'svn safety at this trjang moment, and
to this he owed his capture. When he reached the private
stair by which the other ministers had escaped, lie observed
a lady hastening to profit by the same mode of egress, when
lie immediately drew back, and allowed her to precede him.
She Avas dressed, according to the fashion of the time, with
a flowing train, which, from the state of trepidation in which
she then was, she had not tlie presence of mind to gather
LIFia OF THE REV. ■\VILLr.VM JENKYX. 313
Tip over lier arm. In consequence of this, the narrow pas-
sage was impeded, ?.Ir. Jenkyn got entangled with the skirts
of her robe, and before he could get down the stairs, the sol-
diers were upon him.
lie was immediately earned before two aldermen, Sir
James Edwards and Sir James Smith, who were known to
be subservient tools to the Court, and by them he was
treated with extreme rudeness, knowing that such conduct
would be acceptable to those in power. The well-known
test, styled the Oxford Oath, was immediately tendered to
liim, and, on his declining it, he Avas summarily committed
to Newgate, although he oflered the fine of £40, which the
law empowei^d them to take, and it was urged for him
at the time, that such was the state of his health, that the
air of Newgate would infallildy prove fatal to him. Soon
after his seclusion in the dungeon of that felon's prison, he
began to experience the terrible effects he had dreaded, and
he presented a petition to the King for release, which was
backed bj- an assurance from his physicians, that his life was
in danger from his rigorous imi)risonment. But no otiier
answer could be obtained than this: " JenkjTi shall be a.
prisoner as long as he lives !" so malignant was the feeling
entertained against this luunble and unoil'ending minister
of the Gospel. This declaration was rigorously adhered to
to the last, for he was not suffered even to go to l^aptize his
daughter's child, though a large sum was oHered for that
liberty, with security for his return to prison. So violent,
indeed, was the s]nvii of persecution that animated his
captors, tliat the jailors were ordered not to let him pray in
company with any visitors ; ami even when his daughter
came to ask his blessing, he was not allowed to pray with
her.
Soon after his cmirmcmcnt, his health began to ilecline ;
lint lie continued ail along in tlu; utmost joy and comfort
of soul, lie said to one of his friends, " What a vast difl'er-
ence is tliere between this and my first imprisonment !
Then 1 was full of doultts and fears, of grief and anguish;
and well 1 might, for going out of Clod's way and my own
calling to meddle with thuigs that tlid not belong to me.
314 LIFE OF THE REV, WILLIAM JENKYN.
But now, licing found in the way of my duty, in ray Mas-
ter's business, though I suffer even to bonds, yet I am com-
forted beyond measure. The Lord sheds abroad his love
sensibly in my heart. I feel it, I liave the assurance of it."
Then, tm-ning- to some who were weeping by him, he said,
" Why weep ye for me 1 Christ lives : he is my Friend ; a
Friend born for adversity ; a Friend that never dies. Weep
not for me, but weep for yom-selvcs and for your children."
He died in Newgate, January 19, 1685, aged 72, having
been a prisoner there four months ; where, as he said a little
before his death, a man might be as effectually murdered as
at Tyburn, A nobleman liaving heard of liis happy re-
lease, said to the king, " .l\Iay it please your JMajesty, Jenkyn
has got his liberty." Upon which he asked, with eagerness,
"Aye, who gave it himi" The nobleman replied, "A
greater than your Majesty, the King of kings ;" with which
the King seemed greatly struck, and remained silent. Mr.
Jenkyn was buried by his friends with great lionour, at
Bunhill-fields, where ho has atoml)stone, (erected in 1715,)
with a Latin inscription, which states his liaving been im-
prisoned in Newgate, and that he died a martjT, in the 52d
year of his ministry.
J\Ir. Junkyn's daugliter is described by his biographer ag
" a high-spirited, though a very worthy and pious woman."
She justly regarded her father as a martyr to the cause of
truth and liberty of conscience. On the occasion of his
funeral, she distributed mourning-rings to liis particular
friends, on Avliich she had caused this pointed motto to be
engraved: " iMr. William Jenkyn, murdered in Newgate."
He is the author of an exposition on the Ei)istlc of Jude, in
two quarto volumes, now very rare, besides various works
connected with tlie controversies of the time, one of which
is written in Latin, and was esteemed, even by his oppo-
nents, a work of great learning and ability
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